Through All the Music Comes the Dies Irae
by Millie
Summary: Both women have come to a crossroad in their lives.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There were only a handful of times that Lucas recalled his mother smoking. From what his much older siblings had told him, she'd been quite the smoker before he was born. He supposed that by the time he'd come in to the world the image of smoking began to dissolve and people realized the harm and ramifications of the toxic sticks. He had never known his mother as a smoker, but he did know her as the type to partake in smoking when something bad happened. The day his father left her, she'd smoked. The day his father had gotten remarried, she'd smoked. One day she'd come home from work and lit up a cigarette and he could only imagine it was because of her superior officer, Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson.

Lucas knew about Chief Johnson through his mother's various tirades about the woman. She'd come home in the evening, pour a glass of wine, and rant to Lucas about "Little-Miss-Southern-Belle-From-Georgia" as his mother liked to call her – not affectionately.

He supposed her talking about Brenda was better than her trying to pry information out of him about his father. Lucas mostly felt bad for her. She was a strong woman - to a point.

He knew his mother better than anyone else, even his siblings. He'd chosen to stay with her through the divorce instead of staying back East with his father. He'd only been twelve at the time of the divorce. Leaving his mother scared him more than anything else so he'd gone with her. Lucas was very shy, reserved, unlike his family. He liked to sit silently and observe the world.

He liked to observe his mother.

And he knew that right now she was unhappy.

She was seated on their front porch, staring idly out at the dark street before her. He watched her bring the cigarette to her lips and inhale, her head dropping back against the lounge chair as she exhaled in to the light night breeze. The smell of smoke filtered through the closed window, beneath their front door.

Lucas was frozen in the blackness of their living room, trying to decide whether to interrupt his mother, or go back to bed.

It was half past midnight. He had school in the morning.

She'd get mad if he was still awake.

A board creaked under his weight and he felt his heart begin to beat faster. He hoped she hadn't heard.

"Lucas?" Her smooth, gentle voice glided through the wall. She'd heard him. Damn her and her uncanny ability to know exactly where he was at all times.

Lucas moved forward, opening the front door to peer out in to the crisp fall evening. He looked over at his mother, noticing that she was still in her black work pants, her blazer hung open and her white button up shirt was half undone. Her feet were bare. She looked disheveled, exhausted, and as he stepped out on to the porch, she wiped at her eyes, as if trying to mask the fact that she had been crying.

She took one last inhale and then butted the cigarette. "Did I wake you?" She asked, unable to meet his eyes so instead she leaned forward and re-buttoned her shirt.

"No," he lied. In truth, he had woken up to the smell of cigarette smoke, which had immediately propelled him downstairs to see if it was his mother smoking. He worried about her. He supposed that as a child he should not worry about his mother, but he did. He'd always been protective of her.

"Well then go back to bed," her voice was even, lifeless. He detected a bit of fear and uncertainty.

"What happened?" He asked, wondering if that Chief Johnson had finally gone and done something to ruin his mother's career.

Instead of responding, his mother placed her head in her hands, rubbing at her forehead.

"Sharon?" He had always called her by her first name. Neither understood it, but both had come to find it normal. It seemed to place them on an even playing field.

"Lucas." She turned to look at him. He wanted to run and give her a hug like he had when he was six and she'd come home crying after a particularly gruesome case she'd worked on. He wanted to, but it would be odd – wouldn't it? – for a sixteen year old boy to run to his mother. "Go to bed," she got up and grabbed an empty wineglass, lighter, and her pack of cigarettes.

She smelled like a mixture of her intoxicating spiced-floral scented perfume and smoke. He didn't like the latter.

She reached out and touched his cheek with her free hand. "Everything's all right."

...

Everything was not all right. But Sharon did not have the heart to tell her son.

Lucas was a delicate child, so different from her others. He had been attached to her since the day he was born – ten years after his older sister and twelve after his brother. He'd come to her later in life. She hadn't been expecting him at all, but she knew from his inception that he would be special. It had all happened so carelessly.

She'd hardly slept with her ex-husband, Paul, after her older daughter, Katherine, had been born. They figured that two was good enough for them, but with less and less intimacy their relationship dwindled. They'd gone through couples counseling which resulted in the conception of Lucas.

Her little baby boy only ever stopped crying when Sharon tended to him. He slept in their bed; further ruining her diminishing sex life with Paul. Suffice it to say, he'd found sexual stimulation from someone else.

As a baby, Lucas had a hard time being with just his father. She knew it had hurt Lucas' relationship with Paul early on, and Lucas' decision to come live with her instead of her ex had further wedged a block in their relationship. She felt like an only parent most of the time because Paul felt little loyalty to his youngest child.

And her little Lucas was a bit of an entity that she had yet to figure out.

The news she had received that day would devastate him. She would tell him, but not yet. Not right now. Now she had needed to quell her own anxiety with cigarettes and wine.

"But Sharon…" Lucas, her lovely little baby who was still tall and lanky and awkward as a teen, knew she was hiding something. He was a very perceptive boy.

"Lucas, it's going to be all right. I promise you." Sharon looked up in to his green eyes, so very much like her own. When had he grown so much taller than she? She reached up to run her fingers soothingly through his soft sandy brown hair. "Go to bed."

...

Brenda had been unable to sleep for many days. She was exhausted, and yet she chose to occupy her time with a hefty case load instead of sleep. She'd brought her work home every night that week as if trying to push Fritz away. He knew to stay clear when she had a case, but her excessive overload did seem rather suspect.

She was avoiding him. Avoiding him and his proposal to relocate.

He received an offer to return to DC and head a department of the FBI there. A pay raise, a wonderful opportunity for him. He wanted it. Brenda knew he wanted it.

Instead of supporting him, Brenda poured herself another glass of wine and readjusted her glasses. The words on the file before her looked as if they were reordering themselves. She could hardly make out what they were saying, yet she continued to stare at them.

"Brenda?" Fritz's sleepy voice startled her, caused her to nearly jump off of the couch.

"Jesus, Fritzy," Brenda put a hand over her heart, trying to calm the rapid beating.

"Why are you still awake?" He appeared in the living room doorway. Naked. He was naked. He had an erection.

"Well, uh…" Brenda didn't even know any more. Was she imagining his erection?

"Why don't you come to bed?" He sleepily nodded towards their bedroom.

Brenda smiled, closing the case file. She stood up and walked to her husband, wrapping her arms around his taut chest. He was lean, muscular. And he had an erection.

Their lips melted together. She had no idea why he was letting her in now, especially since she had felt distance from him over the past week. There had been no sex or kisses; he was upset with her for holding off on her decision. But now it seemed like the choice was unimportant.

Brenda pushed off her panties and Fritz easily hoisted her up against the kitchen wall. He pressed deep into her. She was surprised she was awake and aroused enough to let this happen, but it felt nice. It was human contact; it was what had been missing for some time.

When both reached their climax, Fritz leaned forward and started to cry.

Brenda, rather exhausted and confused, ran her fingers soothingly through his hair. "What is it, Fritzy?"

He sighed against her neck.

"You're not going to DC, are you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"God damn it, a F.I.D. investigation?" Brenda sighed. Just what she wanted first thing in the morning.

"Don't sound so excited," Detective Boswell from the F.I.D. division walked up behind Brenda. "We don't like it much either."

Brenda turned to face him, remembering him from previous investigations with F.I.D.. But where was the woman in charge? Brenda was ready for another F.I.D. vs. Major Crimes showdown and she needed her able bodied opponent.

"Where's the Capt'n?" Brenda asked, glancing around the scene, waiting for the in control brunette to pop up at any time.

"She's not on this case, Chief," Boswell informed Brenda. "If you have questions you can refer to me."

"But…" Brenda's brow furrowed, her forehead wrinkling from lack of comprehension. "She's the head of F.I.D." _God damn her_, Brenda inwardly thought. Even if they hated one another, they had a better rapport than Brenda had with Boswell. He was an old stick in the mud.

"Yes, but the head of F.I.D. doesn't need to work every case." He quipped.

Brenda shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around the current situation. Captain Sharon Raydor was not present; Brenda would have to work with Boswell. She could do this. "All right, Detective, give me the facts." She rubbed her forehead, nodding for Provenza and Flynn to follow behind her.

Perhaps this day would be easier without Captain Raydor hot on her heels.

...

"We've caught it at a good time. It's not quite to stage two; we can treat it with chemotherapy, aggressively, to get the mass down before we operate." Doctor Gabrielle Suarez smiled over her desk at a rather stoic Sharon Raydor. "Please, Sharon, relax."

Sharon rolled her eyes slowly, finding it hard to do anything _relaxing_ with her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

"I'm going to prescribe you some medications," Doctor Suarez, realizing that her patient was not going to relax any time soon, clicked her pen and reached for her prescription pad. "I need you to start taking these for a week before we start treatments. They'll help with the nausea involved." She explained as she wrote.

Sharon nodded, her mind running a mile a minute. Treatment. She was about to undergo treatment.

"Sharon," Dr. Suarez was trying to get her attention.

"Hmm?" Sharon hummed, realizing that her mind was wondering. She hadn't heard a word the Doctor said.

"You really do need to slow down. I know you have a high profile job, but you don't need to be a superhero. You're human. I trust you'd like to be alive when your son graduates high school." Dr. Suarez – who was actually a mother to a girl in Lucas' class and with whom Sharon had attended PTA meetings – eyed Sharon squarely and handed over the prescription sheet.

Sharon nodded. _Oh God, Lucas._ This was so unfair to him.

"Thank you, Gabrielle," Sharon wearily heard herself say, but then shook her head, "well, I suppose you're my doctor now, so thank you, Doctor."

Gabrielle leaned forward and grabbed Sharon's hand. She could feel it trembling in her grasp. "We can stay on a first name basis, Sharon."

"All right, thank you Gabrielle. I will get this," She removed her hand from her doctor's and waived the piece of paper.

"Today," Gabrielle sternly eyed the strong willed woman seated across from her. She was very private about her life, yet Gabrielle had always admired her strength. She knew she was a successful Captain who worked for the LAPD and she knew that Sharon was embarrassed to have any weakness show. This whole situation made her look like a dog with her tail between her legs. She was crestfallen.

Sharon stood up, her legs unsteady as she did so. Without making eye contact with Gabrielle she gave her a half-hearted salute, "you have my word."

And with that Sharon Raydor walked out of the Doctor's office, waiting until she was holed up in the downstairs lobby bathroom before she broke down into tears.

...

"Chief Johnson, with all due respect, there is no way for you to acquire that information without a search warrant." Boswell blandly countered Brenda. He clearly did not know who he was up against.

"For Heaven's sake," Brenda cried. She turned quickly around, her team hot on her heels as she walked away from the horrid F.I.D. team. "Is it entirely awful that I actually miss Capt'n Raydor? At least she'd help us 'stead of hinderin' us." When Brenda got angry, the country got thicker.

"Well, Boswell's right," Gabriel appeared at her side. "We'd have to get a search warrant."

"Then let's get a search warrant," Brenda eyed him. "Provenza, call Tao and have him look this guy up. We'll get a warrant in front of the judge by this afternoon." Brenda had a plan. No one stopped her when she was on the trail for a suspect.

"Actually, Chief Johnson, F.I.D. would have to put up the warrant to the judge. This is, after all, F.I.D.'s investigation. Not Major Crimes." Boswell had followed her. _That man_, Brenda growled inwardly to herself.

"Fine, all right then. Major Crimes, we have better things to do. Back to the station."

"But we can't just leave, come on Chief Johnson," Flynn was messing around, but Brenda was in no mood to deal with him. She kept walking, not waiting to see if her team would follow.

"F.I.D. can have this damn investigation." Brenda cursed under her breath. She knew exactly where she was going upon her arrival back at the precinct.

...

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Captain Raydor?" Chief Pope looked with disdain upon the woman he despised.

She wished then that Brenda had won the position as Chief of Police, though she no more wanted to divulge her personal information to Brenda than she did to Chief Pope.

"Chief Pope, I…" she had no words for this moment. She picked at the edge of a folder she had compiled for the Chief. She wanted to just set it on his desk and run away, but she needed to explain.

"What is it, Captain? I don't have all day." He rudely returned to his computer, not even making eye contact with her.

_Damn him_. Sharon stepped closer. "Chief, I'm not sure how best to say this, but I… well as the head of F.I.D., I've put together all of the necessary paper work." She placed the folder on to his desk and stepped away.

"What is this?" He picked up the folder and opened it.

She watched as his eyes scanned the page. They squinted, as if having to do a double take to fully understand what was before him. "Captain," his voice was softer, surprised.

"Chief, this will not change anything. I simply have to inform you in case…for legal reasons." Sharon shifted awkwardly.

Chief Pope eyed her. He knew that Captain Raydor was one tough woman, but he had never expected this. He also knew that she never gave up. She was persistent and damn good at her job, even if he would never admit it out loud. "Very well then," he nodded and closed the folder.

"Thank you, Chief." Sharon nodded, sounding relieved. She turned to leave but as she reached the door she glanced back at Chief Will Pope, adding, "I trust that this can stay between the two of us"

Chief Pope nodded, "by law it has to."

"Of course." Sharon nodded again and then made her escape.

...

Sharon could hardly keep her gaze off the blonde as she strode in to F.I.D., an indignant look on her face as she started to lay in to Detective Boswell. Sharon could only guess that Brenda had disapproved his handling of F.I.D.'s investigation that morning. But, Sharon reasoned, she simply could not have made it to do things herself. She trusted Boswell to do well with the case. He was a damn good detective and a stickler for rules. She admired him, and knew Brenda would hate him. Perhaps that's why she'd sent him.

She watched as Brenda nearly backed Boswell in to a corner before she turned, her eyes colliding with Sharon's prying gaze. Sharon had been caught. She swallowed and looked back down at her desk. She noticed that she'd laid her purse down and inside was the awful orangeish-yellow prescription bottle. She tucked it deeper in to her purse just as her office door flew open.

"Capt'n Raydor, so nice to see you here at the office." Brenda's Southern twang hardly sounded pleased to see Sharon. In fact, Sharon was certain Brenda was speaking through a clenched jaw.

"Well, it is _my_ office, Chief Johnson," Sharon responded through a forced smile.

"Where, might I ask, were you this mornin'?" Brenda's voice evened back to a normal speech level as she came to a halt in front of Sharon's desk, arms crossing over her chest.

"I was out," Sharon shuffled the files on her desk, glancing up when Brenda made no response. She wanted a better explanation from Sharon. "I hardly think it is any of your business where I was this morning."

"It is _my_ business when the head of F.I.D. doesn't show up for an investigation involving officers." Brenda snapped.

"Detective Boswell wasn't good enough for you?" Sharon raised an eyebrow over the folder she was holding.

"Listen, Capt'n Raydor, when an officer is shot I expect you to be the first person on the scene. It_ is_ your job." Brenda placed her hands on the older woman's desk, leaning forward as if that might assert her power further.

"I do paperwork, Chief. I can get information from the scene through my men. I don't _always_ have to be on the scene unless I need to double check evidence. I trust that the men and women of F.I.D. can do their jobs." Sharon retorted coolly, calmly. She could tell it drove Brenda mad.

"Where were you?" Brenda was just busting at the seams to find out why Sharon had been absent.

"I didn't realize you actually enjoyed having me around." Sharon smirked.

The comment sent a rouge streak through the younger woman's face and she stood back up, crossing her arms in a way which armed her against Sharon Raydor's verbal ammunition. "I don't." Brenda quickly stuttered.

"Good, then you'll be seeing more of Detective Boswell. I have other things going on, so if you wouldn't mind…" Sharon opened another file and logged back on to her computer system for effect, as if to appear busy.

Brenda opened her mouth to make some sort of come back, but only ended up closing her pretty little lips in to a thin line before storming, upset, out of Sharon's office. Sharon's eyes moved upwards to follow the poorly dressed Chief, gaze catching on the feminine sway of her hips. Her line of vision was only disturbed when the smaller woman slammed Sharon's door closed. From then on Sharon could only see the set jaw and frustrated look on Brenda's face as she made her way back to the elevators.

Sharon wondered how she was going to keep Chief Brenda Leigh off her case for the next…however long this _treatment_ would take.

She did not want to explain herself to her son, let alone Brenda Leigh, but she had a feeling that Brenda would get the truth out of her. She was not looking forward to that day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I brought some Chinese take-out, Fritzy!" Brenda called as she stepped in to their cozy Los Angeles home. She watched as Joel jumped down from the couch and she leaned down to pet his head, listening to him purr happily. She loved coming home to him.

"Brenda," Fritz rounded the corner and gave her a stern, distracted smile. "It's a half-past eight."

"I had cases, I'm sorry." Brenda moved towards him and leaned up to press a kiss to his tight lips. She seemed unaware that he had not returned the sentiment. Leave it to Brenda to be completely un-self-aware.

She sat down her bag and the Chinese take-out on the table before moving to the fridge. She opened it and pulled out a bottle of wine. Uncorking it, she pulled out a wineglass and filled it nearly to the brim.

"You know I really don't like when you do that," Fritz rubbed the back of his head.

"What?" Brenda turned, deer-in-the-headlights, to stare at Fritz.

"Drink. You're always drinking." Fritz was upset. She could suddenly tell, sense it really.

"I'm not…I'm not _always_ drinking." She stuttered, wondering how both her husband _and_ Captain Raydor could always turn her in to a stuttering fool.

Fritz just rolled his eyes. "All right, you're not _always_ drinking."

"Fritz, what's wrong?" She sat the wine glass on the counter and moved to touch him, but he stepped away.

"I'm not going to let this promotion go like last time." He simply stated.

"Well can't we work around it? Can't we figure out a way to make this work?" Brenda was fumbling for words.

"Brenda, you haven't taken a day off work since…well not even when we got married. We had a day…one day! For our honeymoon." Fritz's angry seemed to slowly unfold before her.

"I could…I could work around it. We could take turns – "

He stopped her with a disbelieving glance. "I think we both know how this is going to end." He grabbed his jacket.

"Wait, where are you…where are you goin'?" Brenda rushed towards him, trying to keep him from leaving. She didn't want him to go, yet…part of her did want him to leave. Was she being selfish?

"I'm going to a meeting. Don't wait up." He lightly pushed her away and made his exit out the front door.

Brenda stared after him, as if waiting for him to turn around and come back.

But he didn't come home again that evening.

...

"Sharon?" Lucas called from the kitchen upon hearing the front door open.

"It's me." She replied, turning to close and lock the door. Her hand shook as she did so.

"I'm making spaghetti, I hope you don't mind." Lucas called back brightly.

Sharon smiled; her beautiful wonderful son seemed to always take care of her. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? She kicked off her heels and padded through the living room towards the light of the kitchen. Peering around the corner, she found her son in one of her aprons, stirring noodles in a boiling pot of water.

She moved to stand beside him and touched his back ever so slightly. "You're such a wonderful young man." Leaning up she placed a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled before removing the pot from the stove. "I think they're done."

Sharon opened a lower cabinet and pulled out a colander, handing it off to her son. "Oh, look at this sauce. You're becoming a regular chef!" She smiled, stirring the red sauce with seasoning and ground turkey meat.

"Mother, spaghetti is the simplest dish to make. It hardly constitutes me being a chef." She perked up at his use of _Mother_ instead of Sharon. She enjoyed it when he felt comfortable enough to use the name her other children called her – though in their case some distain was involved.

She lovingly patted him on the arm before moving to the refrigerator for wine. She stopped herself as she reached for the half-full bottle. Should she be drinking in her present state? She was certain Dr. Suarez had mentioned it, but she'd hardly heard a word the woman had said.

_Moderation_.

The word came to her and she reached for the bottle. She could be moderate in her portion.

Pulling down a wine glass, Sharon filled it half way. That was good enough. She sipped the liquid and allowed a very minute buzz to cloud her mind for only a moment.

Her eyes went to her son as he meticulously split the pasta between two plates. He turned to take some breadsticks out of the oven and put them in a basket. His long, lean fingers wrapped around the handle of the sauce pan and with ease he poured the red sauce over the pasta.

"Can you get some forks?" He asked without glancing at his mother.

"Of course," she moved to the silverware drawer and pulled out two forks, taking them to the bar where they always sat and ate – or at least where they usually ate. Sometimes Sharon didn't make it home to dine with her son. She felt suddenly guilty for all the time he'd spent alone. Though her idiot husband was partially to blame for divorcing her and leaving Lucas to fend for himself, she couldn't help blame herself for leaving him alone so often. Since the divorce she'd practically married her job. It was unfair to Lucas, certainly, but without her work she felt worthless.

Though in some ways, she thought, Lucas enjoyed his solitude. He was such an interesting child preferring practicing his cello and reading over friends and sports. He was definitely not like his older brother Jonathan who had attended Old Miss on a football scholarship. Lucas would never be a rough and tough man.

She wondered if she would live to see Lucas grow up to be a man. The thought that she might not brought tears to her eyes suddenly. She wiped them away, feigning eye irritation as she took a seat at the bar.

Lucas didn't seem to notice. He sat her plate of spaghetti before her and then took a seat on the barstool next to her.

"How was work?" He asked as if he was her father. She marveled at his maturity.

Work. Work made Sharon think of Chief Johnson. "The same as usual. I swear to God if Chief Brenda Leigh doesn't leave me alone I will be filing a report on myself." She sighed, her mind wondering to their brief interaction that day. All she could see in her hazy thoughts were those two beautiful brown eyes, the soft curl of Brenda's hair, the way she tried to overpower Sharon, but knew she held no ground with the older woman.

Sharon realized these thoughts had not been going through her mind when the actual moment had happened, but she knew that thoughts of Brenda Leigh Johnson were never too far from her mind. The woman amused her, challenged her, and somehow had piqued some inner curiosity that Sharon had never realized she harbored until she had met the woman.

"Sharon," He had used her name again. It immediately pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, Lucas?" She turned to look at him. He appeared anxious, worried, and nervous. She wished he would tell her what was on his mind.

"I'm gay." The words slid out of his mouth as if he hadn't intended them to, as if he had meant to say something else but those words had spilled out instead.

_Gay_. The word fluttered through her subconscious. A light seemed to ignite somewhere deep from within. _Gay_.

"Mother?" Lucas' voice sounded even more worried.

"Oh, Lucas, honey," Sharon turned to him, placing a hand on his knee. "I've known."

Lucas frowned. "But…"

"A mother knows." And it was true. Sharon had known from the time her toddler son had grabbed a make-up kit off the shelf at Wal-Mart and had shown no interest in trucks or cars. She'd known when he had kissed several boys in his pre-school resulting in some nasty phone calls from parents. She'd known when she'd found gay porn on her computer and when she'd opened her son's closet to find pictures of male celebrities lining one of the back walls. She was unsurprised by his announcement, having figured it was a given and neither had needed to discuss it.

"You mean to tell me that I've been freaking out for the past however many years trying to figure out how to tell you and you knew?" He sounded incredulous.

Sharon gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm sorry, Lucas. I suppose I should have indicated that I had you figured out."

He seemed to relax a bit. He twirled some pasta around on his plate and then a slight smile tugged at his lips. "That was easy."

Sharon laughed, "Just don't tell your father. He's busy making his career as a big Republican senator." She rolled her eyes.

"Believe me, I wouldn't dream of it." Lucas laughed as well. He stuck his fork in to his mouth, a new aura seeming to appear around him. A burden had been lifted from his shoulders, yet; a burden still remained in Sharon's court.

They ate in silence for a moment longer before Sharon put down her fork and reached for her wine.

"What is happening to you?" Lucas asked. He knew. He was just as perceptive as Sharon. They were very self-aware people and in being so they were aware of one another.

Sharon sat down her wine glass and rubbed her forehead. She had not been prepared for this moment of truth, not tonight. Telling Chief Pope had been enough for her. Yet, she knew she couldn't lie to her son. He deserved to know.

"Luc," Sharon looked up at him, the worry from before had returned to his green eyes. "I…" this was hard. Harder than she'd anticipated. "I have…"

"What, mother?" He sat down his fork, seeming to lose his appetite.

"I have cancer. Breast cancer. Left breast. Has cancer." The words poured out like his previous confession.

He looked absolutely pale.

"Mom!" He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her.

"Luc, baby," Sharon wrapped her arms around him, kissing his soft hair, holding him close to her. "Shh, don't cry."

"Are you going to die?" He whispered, holding on to her for dear life, his fingers sinking in to the fabric of her blazer.

She laughed. _I hope not_. "They say it's treatable, curable."

He nodded against her chest.

"Hey, Luc," she pulled him away from her, looking in to his watery eyes. "We're going to get through this, all right?" It was cliché, but she had to believe it. She had to believe it for herself and for her son.

Lucas just nodded again. Sharon held her son until their food went cold and his tears had dried up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_That woman_, Brenda inwardly growled. With all the stress that Captain Raydor put her through she was surprised she hadn't gotten an ulcer or gained a hundred pounds from chocolate consumption. Brenda swallowed the last of a Snickers bar and tossed the wrapper in the trash.

"Tao!" She called out, glancing through the file that had just arrived from FID

Tao appeared at her door.

"What does Capt'n Raydor hope to accomplish by doing a partial audit?"

Was this a trick question, Tao had to wonder. "What do you mean?"

"She had this report sent to me, and it's missing a whole page." Brenda frowned as she flipped through the report. "Double check this for me," she handed it to Tao and sat back in her seat. Her finger fumbled with her candy drawer. Pulling it open she realized she only had mints and suckers left. Deciding on a blue lollipop, she pulled off the wrapper and popped the candy in her mouth.

"There is a page missing. Would you like me to send it back to her?" Tao closed the file.

"No," Brenda reached out for it, "I'll take it. Thank you." She dismissed him with her eyes.

Opening the folder again, as if the page might magically appear, she decided to whom she would complain.

...

The hospital room was nothing like Sharon had expected it to be. Instead of sterile white walls and awful tiled floors, the room was painted a muted green and the floors were faux wood. Paintings of peaceful garden scenes lined the walls. Sharon felt more at home than in a cancer treatment clinic. She shuffled through her bag, waiting anxiously for the nurse to return. Her heart was pounding, her palms sweaty. She was searching for something to do to make the wait easier.

Her hands connected with a folder and she noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the corner. Pulling the sheet out, her eyes widened. "Shit." She cursed. She'd given Chief Johnson an incomplete report. She'd have her head for this.

As she reached for her phone to call the woman directly, she quickly remembered where she was and the strict no-phone policy.

"Sharon Raydor?" A nurse ducked in from the hallway.

"Yes," Sharon shoved the paper back into her purse, making a mental note to run it up to Major Crimes the second she got back to work. "Yes, that's me." She turned her attention to the young male nurse. He was handsome, young. He reminded her of her older son.

"Mrs. Raydor – "

"Ms, but please, just call me Sharon." She sighed.

"All right, then call me Nathan." He grinned, attempting to ease her palpable tension. "I'm going to get you prepped for a device we call a 'pas-port'. Our surgeon, Dr. Wang, will come in once we get your arm ready. I'm just going to be using local anesthetics, they shouldn't cause any drowsiness, but I will warn you you need to be careful with your arm once we've placed this in. It should heal up and become unnoticeable within a week." He explained as he helped her out of her blazer and began to examine her arm. "I can see why Dr. Suarez suggested this, your veins are hard to find." He smiled.

"Should I be glad I'm getting this…device?" Sharon's voice was neither amused nor upset.

"Well it makes things a lot easier; fewer needle marks on the skin." He patted her arm and reached for a wrapped up cotton swap, soaked in a nasty colored liquid. He pulled off the plastic and had Sharon hold out her arm so that he could swap around the crease in her skin.

"For Christ's sake I can't believe this is happening to me." She suddenly laughed, as if the whole situation were humorous.

"Having a moment of existential crisis?" Nathan asked, glancing up at her.

"I suppose something like that." She nodded, watching as he pulled up a needle. Sharon Raydor was not afraid of needles, but she knew that after this experience she would be weary of them. The point of the needle smoothly connected with her skin, sliding inside. She felt the sting of the anesthesia float in to her system. "Am I going to lose my hair?" She asked, suddenly very aware of the reality of her situation. Chemotherapy meant hair loss. She hadn't even thought about it to that extent.

Nathan pulled the needle out of her arm and set it on his little tray. "Let me see," he opened her file and glanced through the paperwork. "It would appear that the chemo treatment Dr. Suarez suggested doesn't involve the drugs which usually cause hair loss, so, I can't guarantee anything, but it doesn't look like you should."

Sharon nodded. There was still the possibility that her luscious locks would be gone forever. No…they would grow back. They had to. She needed her hair.

"All right, hang tight. I'm going to get Dr. Wang. Don't move." He clipped the file to the foot of her bed and patted her leg. "You're going to be fine, Sharon. You're in good hands."

She gave him a tight smile. "Thank you, Nathan."

...

"Chief Johnson, I cannot, by law, discuss Captain Raydor's information with you." Will Pope pulled himself up to his full height and sipped his coffee.

"But Chief, Will…" Brenda's eyes were pleading. She desperately wanted to know what was none of her business.

"Brenda, come on. Leave her alone. I'm sure she just forgot to include that form in the report. If you go and talk to her she probably has it." Will responded, hoping that his attempt to cover for Captain Sharon Raydor did not seem as forged as it felt. He had never stuck up for Raydor, yet he suddenly found himself doing just so for a woman he despised as much as Brenda did.

"Will, what the hell? Why are you stickin' up for her? I thought you were on my side!" Brenda spat, enraged at just how awful the past week had been. All the frustrations of her personal life seemed to be coming out in the form of taking down Captain Raydor. She made a good scapegoat, Brenda decided.

"Brenda, you know I'm on your side. It's a missing piece of paper. It's not as if she didn't even do the report." Will sighed, picking up a report to breeze through, hoping that Brenda would get out of his hair. He knew he was in for a long road of Brenda cursing the name of Sharon Raydor. He hoped her treatment went quickly and successfully. He needed Captain Raydor in tip top form to help keep Brenda Leigh Johnson at bay.

"That's what it feels like. Fine, you know what, I'll take this up with her since you're being useless." Brenda cried, quickly exiting the office in anger.

"Oh Captain Raydor, I hope for your sake that the cancer kills you before Brenda does." He whispered to himself, marveling at his morbid sense of humor. Cancer was not funny business.

...

Brenda was pacing in front of Sharon's office when she returned from her little procedure. Her arm hurt. She was sleepy from the anesthetic. She was in no mood to deal with the fuming Chief. Reaching in to her bag, she pulled out the missing page of her report and handed it over to the blonde woman as she reached her office door.

"Capt'n, I expect more from you." Brenda had been holding up so much anger that when she spoke her words sounded like a little girl trying to act like a mother.

Sharon ignored her and unlocked her office door, pushing it open to enter. She knew that Brenda would follow her inside. She was like a little tick that Sharon was unable to remove from her body. Their roles had suddenly reversed and Sharon could only conclude that Brenda realized how valuable of an asset Sharon really was to her investigations. Had it not been for Sharon, Brenda most likely would be out of a job for the stunts she liked to pull. Sharon had enabled her for reasons she still could not quite grasp.

She could hear words pouring out of the younger woman's mouth, yet she was hardly focused on what Chief Johnson was saying. Walking straight in to her office, Sharon sat her purse down. She fished out the bottle of pills she'd just picked up from the drug store – a place she was becoming all too familiar with – and opened it. Reaching for an open bottle of water, she downed the recommended two pills, knowing that she would need this medication to get her through the rest of the day. She hoped the pills didn't cause her to fall asleep over a pile of reports causing Brenda Leigh to go completely ballistic.

"Sharon Raydor!" Brenda screamed and Sharon quickly turned, wincing when her arm made contact with her file cabinet on accident.

"Chief Johnson," Sharon's voice came out calmly, softly, quieting the raving woman who looked much like a monkey jumping from branch to branch and howling. "I was out of the office for an hour. I merely forgot to leave that page with you. I would have given it to you the moment I returned."

...

Brenda studied the pained expression on her subordinate officer's face. She looked less than amused at having Brenda verbally assault her, but instead of firing back insults, she was a completely different woman. She was submissive to Brenda's tirade of words that seemed to fall out of her mouth at an uncannily fast rate. This was not the Captain Raydor Brenda knew, this was a mere shell of the woman who had proudly stuck up for herself and her team only months before. Sharon Raydor could cut Brenda down with nothing more than a stare, but as Brenda examined those brilliant green eyes, she noticed they were distracted, not even gazing at her.

Had she been trying to pick a fight with the Captain because she found some sick comfort in their arguments?

Why was everything changing?

Fritz hadn't been home at night for a week, and when he was home he slept in the bedroom and Brenda, feeling a stranger in her own house, stayed on the couch.

Sharon Raydor wasn't acting like a bitch. It was Brenda who was being the bitch now. She was taking out all her anger and frustrations on the suddenly docile Captain.

Brenda took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. This wasn't right of her; she knew she was in the wrong. "You're right, I…I apologize, Capt'n." She looked at the completed piece of paper in her hands. Waving it she added, "Thanks."

Sharon sat down at her desk and mindlessly nodded. She put her head in her hands and stared at an open report before her.

Brenda, for as much as she wanted to leave, found her eyes stuck on the sight of the brunette seated before her. Sharon was shrouded in a haze of secrecy. Brenda realized how very little she knew about her subordinate officer. What she did know, however, was that Sharon was a strong willed individual, flawlessly capable at her job.

Brenda respected her for it. But apart from their working relationship, Brenda knew nothing.

She had always been captivated by the Captain, by her beauty and poise in any situation. She held power and a sense of importance and that transferred in to confidence which Brenda envied. The woman seated before her was a glorious creature she found she wanted to know more about.

"Are you going to be standing in my office all day staring at me, Chief?" Sharon's eyes shifted upwards to meet Brenda's not so candid gaze.

Brenda swallowed. "No, sorry, Capt'n. Thanks again for the page." With cheeks flush from having been caught gawking, Brenda turned on her heels and walked out of Sharon's office.

Why had she just stood there like an idiot gaping at the older woman?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sharon Raydor had a very intimate relationship with her vibrator. It filled the sexual void seemingly present since her divorce. Sharon did not know how to cope with one-night stands. She'd had one intimate relationship with a man since her divorce, and the rest of her time was spent holed up in her room with the perfect, vibrating toy and lubrication – she was, after all, almost sixty and she needed a bit of help . She wondered if that made her life sad. Self administered sex certainly did the job; it just lacked human intimacy and contact which she, for whatever reason, craved.

After conducting her nightly ritual of rubbing lotion on to her hands, Sharon opened her bedside table and pulled out her lubricant. She squeezed a small amount on to her finger and reached into her underwear to rub it on to her humming clit.

Pulling the pink colored toy from its hiding spot in her bedside table, Sharon climbed under the covers, pushing her underwear down and out of the way. Even after menopause she had maintained a healthy sexual appetite, though that hardly meant anything without a partner to make love with.

She twisted the vibrator on, sliding it between her thighs. She was already aroused, and had been since she'd left work. The plastic object slid effortlessly over her humming clitoris. She leaned her head back against her pillow, eyes slipping shut, mouth ajar.

God it felt good to unwind after the day she'd had.

Her legs spread as her hips moved to meet the vibrating object. She was certainly glad the hum of the little machine was masked beneath her down comforter for her son's bedroom was not far away from her own.

But she didn't want to think about her son, no not while the device slid over her arousal.

With her eyes closed she conjured up an all too familiar image. The same image that came to her mind every time she masturbated.

Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson.

Why it couldn't just be someone else - like the attractive Detective Gabriel - was beyond her comprehension.

With each thrust she thought of the blonde haired Chief. She could see her with a tight jaw, an angry expression on those adorable, completely kissable lips. Her brown eyes burned with hatred for Sharon, yet there was something sexual about Brenda's distaste for her. The soft curl of those blonde locks looked touchable, silky. She had on a skin-tight black dress and those absolutely perfect Christian Louboutin black kitten heels from last season – of course Brenda didn't own any Louboutin's. It was just the image Sharon always had.

She stepped closer to Sharon, her eyes softening, though still with an intent gaze. She would bite her lip as she came within inches of Sharon's face.

Brenda lowered the straps of her slinky black dress, pushing it down to reveal perfectly taut nipples. In Sharon's mind she would reach out and touch the soft skin of the pert breasts, run her fingers over the nipples, but in reality she caressed her own aroused breasts.

An unexpected gasp escaped from between her lips and Sharon quickly put a hand over her mouth. No need to wake up her son, she needed to be quiet.

With Brenda standing naked before her, she felt a rush of heat. She needed more stimulation. The hand covering her lips snaked downwards, finding its way in to soft, wet heat. She rubbed at her throbbing clit, allowing the vibrator to penetrate deeper.

She bit her lip as hard as she could as her hips rose, near climax. With her hand on her clit, she could feel the waves of orgasm hit. She rubbed until the throb had subsided, until her vaginal wall began to collapse against the still vibrating toy.

Extracting the now wet vibrator from between her legs, she collapsed back against the bed feeling entirely awkward and embarrassed. The image of her superior officer naked remained in her head. Why in the world would should only be able to think about _her_. She needed to watch porn or find someone else to pine over to get her mind off that God damn woman.

It was unhealthy, Sharon decided, to use one's superior as a visual for sexual stimulation.

But then again Sharon had always been attracted to power. She'd married her husband because he was a Senator. She'd found it intensely erotic. Brenda embodied a power struggle between the two of them. Sharon figured it was the power play that had become erotic in her mind.

Sharon Raydor did not like women. So why did Brenda Leigh Johnson have to rudely butt her way into Sharon's sexual fantasy life?

...

Brenda poured herself a glass of wine, twirling the note around in her hand.

_Went to a meeting. Not sure if I'll be back tonight._

_-Fritz_

He'd been going to an awful lot of meetings. Brenda felt bad for him. She felt very alone. Not even work could quell the horrible feeling stewing in the pit of her stomach.

Was she doomed to fail in every relationship? It seemed that with one divorce down and a failed affair with a married man dirtying her record, prospects were not looking good. She knew she was treating Fritz the same way she had treated her first husband. She was hell bent on her work; the man, the sex was a mere side distraction, not the main course.

Perhaps she would always push away those around her. She found herself doing it a lot with Fritz, even more with Captain Raydor.

What did it matter if she pushed Captain Raydor away? She was merely a roadblock to everything Brenda needed to accomplish. She didn't need to play nice with her. She had to wonder why she hated the woman so much. Other than being a pain to work with, Sharon had saved Brenda more than one time. Brenda should be groveling at her feet.

Well, she supposed their distaste for each other stemmed from their power struggle as women. Brenda had never gotten along with women the way she did with men. She had an innate sense of masculine energy, of the way they operated. She fit in with a crowd of men.

She did not fit in with the uppity Los Angeles women, which included Captain Raydor. The woman oozed femininity in its most powerful form and Brenda was at a loss of how to handle her. She found the woman intriguing, erotic in many ways, but she had to remind herself that this was the woman who had run crying to Will when she hadn't gotten her way. This was the woman who had a stick up her ass about rules.

How had she even come to think about the infuriating woman? She knew Sharon would never even give her a second thought. She probably had better things to do. Like freely fuck men.

Brenda imagined she had quite a sexual appetite. The captain probably had men fawning all over her with the confidence she radiated. Brenda was awkward in dating relationships, but she sensed Raydor knew how to handle men.

She would know what to do in Brenda's current situation. Brenda imagined the Captain telling Fritz to go to hell and just walking out as if leaving a relationship wouldn't hurt. Sharon had the sort of aura about her that made Brenda believe she was a love'm and leave'm kinda gal.

Brenda wished she could be more like Sharon – or at least the Sharon she had conjured up in her mind. She really had no idea what the woman was actually like outside of work, but Brenda knew that Sharon was a more well-rounded person than she. Had they been better friends, Brenda just might have called her up and asked for advice.

...

Lucas stared at his mother. She was beautiful even in the florescent lighting of the room the doctor's had referred to as the infusion room. He had been allowed to accompany his mother in her first chemotherapy treatment. She was relaxed at the moment, her eyes trained on a file from work. She'd brought her work with her. Lucas supposed there wasn't much else to do while sitting around getting chemicals dripped into ones bloodstream for four to six hours.

He glanced up at the bag of medication and watched as it released another dose. The clear medicine drained down a tube, straight in to his mother's arm. She made no indication that she had felt the treatment enter her body, so it must not have been noticeable.

Her eyes looked weary, he knew she was frightened. She'd been irritable all day and that usually meant she was scared about something. She played it off as a cool, hard-headed, strong woman, but he knew she had her moments of weakness. This moment counted as such.

"You don't have to watch me, darling." Sharon's low, even tone broke Lucas out of his thoughts. She sounded relaxed. He was glad.

"I know," Lucas looked down at the ground.

"Why don't you go get a snack or something? This is really boring." She gave him a smile.

He shook his head.

"Did you bring a book? I told you this would take forever. You didn't have to come." She scratched her head, a finger running through her soft hair. Lucas knew it was soft and wonderful; he used to run his fingers through it as a child.

"I have my homework." He answered, reaching for his book bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a history textbook. "And," he looked up, "I wanted to come."

Sharon eyed her son and gave him a genuine smile. "You're a good son, Luc." She reached out and took Lucas' hand in her own, squeezing it gently before noticing something behind Lucas.

He turned to see who had caught his mother's attention.

"What do you think of my nurse?" She asked.

Lucas' eyes widened. His mother was asking his opinion of her male nurse? How weird. He supposed she really was supportive of his gayness. "I," Lucas pulled at his shirt collar. "He's very cute." And he was. He had short dark brown hair, gentle eyes that smiled as he talked with patients. But he was probably ten years Lucas' senior.

"Yes, very cute indeed." Sharon laughed. Lucas cringed, that would make him nearly forty years his mother's junior. He really hoped she didn't take a young man as a lover.

Lucas turned to study Sharon. She was always full of surprises. She went back to her work and Lucas glanced down at his book., though a thought tugged at the corner of his mind. "Sharon?"

"Yes?" She responded without looking up.

"When are you going to tell Katie and Jonathan and Grandma and Grandpa?"

Sharon bit the corner of her lip in contemplation. "I should, shouldn't I?"

Lucas nodded.

"But then they'll want to come and see me and it will just be…hmm, but they need to know." Sharon knew she needed to tell her two oldest children and her parents. They deserved to know that she had breast cancer. "I'll call, okay?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Where's Capt'n Raydor?" Brenda had come to discuss a shared Major Crimes and FID case. A cop had shot a suspect but it had only resulted in a forearm wound. Sharon Raydor had actually shown up on the scene instead of hiding behind Boswell. Brenda couldn't understand why the older woman was suddenly pawning off cases to less capable people, but Brenda had felt relieved when the older woman took on the case herself.

When Brenda had arrived at the scene earlier that morning, she'd taken in the sight of Captain Raydor standing with her hands shoved in her pockets, questioning the officer who had taken the shot. She had looked just as sharp as ever; that long mane of hair perfectly coifed, those glasses shielding wide, brilliant green eyes, her lips pursed together as she listened, intently, to the officer's remarks. She was uncertain as to why it warmed her heart, but it had. Perhaps Brenda Leigh Johnson was going insane.

The brunette slyly side-stepped confrontation with Brenda at the scene. She hadn't put up her normal fight when Brenda insisted that Major Crimes collect evidence. No, instead she had sat back and allowed Brenda and her team to work alongside her. Was the older woman going soft?

Now they were back in the office working on paperwork, and Sharon Raydor was suddenly nowhere to be found.

"She's left the office for the evening," Boswell informed Brenda with a less than ecstatic glance in her direction.

"Why the hell does she get to leave early?" Brenda threw up her hands, realizing she would get nothing accomplished. She needed some information that only Sharon was privy to. "Is she reachable?"

"Probably, try her cell."

...

Sharon leaned back against the chair which was beginning to feel all too comfortable. This was her second treatment. The first had been long, boring, exhausting and days after she had felt nauseous. They had warned her about the side effects, but she hadn't realized how paralyzing they were until she'd had to run to vomit in the precincts bathroom after questioning an officer. She had also vomited that day after traipsing around the crime scene of an officer shooting. Though he hadn't killed anyone, FID was still involved.

Sharon had actually allowed Chief Johnson and her team to help, though mostly because she'd hardly had the strength to conduct the onsite investigation. When no one had been looking, she'd ducked behind a bush to throw-up, the bloodied arm of the suspect having made her nauseous.

Now as she glanced at her arm, watching as a liquid drip fed in to her pas-port, she felt weary. Chemotherapy was not all it was cracked up to be. It was long, boring, and lonely.

Lucas had symphony practice late in to the evening, so unlike her first trip to the infusion room, she was alone. She had brought some paperwork to look over, but she felt too exhausted to do so.

Just as she closed her eyes, she felt her cell phone vibrate against her hip. She reached in to her pocket with her free hand and retrieved the phone. She had to put on her glasses to see who was calling.

_Chief Johnson_.

"Shit," she murmured. Not the person she wanted to talk to right now.

But it was her job, she couldn't just ignore it. Hitting the answer button she held the phone to her ear, "Chief Johnson." She evened her voice, not letting on to the fact that she was sitting in a hospital getting treated for the cancer growing in her boob. Fucking breast cancer.

"Capt'n, I just needed a little piece of information, but it seems you've left the office early." Leave it to Brenda to nag.

"Yes, it does seem that way. How can I help you, Chief?" Sharon's words stung with each attack on the consonants.

"I need the written complaint from today. I don't have a copy." Brenda sighed.

"I can have Boswell make a copy?" Sharon studied her nails, noticing that her polish was chipping. She'd have to treat herself to a manicure after this round of chemo.

She could tell Brenda's blood was boiling at having to ask Boswell for anything. "You can't just send it to me?" The Southern whine came out.

Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose. "_No_, I cannot just send it to you."

"Well why not?" Brenda had to know she was being an annoying, whiny bitch.

"Chief Johnson, I am not in a position to give you a copy. If you cannot ask Boswell for it, then it will have to wait until the morning." Sharon calmly responded.

Brenda sighed loudly, "all right, fine. Thank you Capt'n."

"Goodbye, Chief Johnson." Sharon hung up the phone and tucked it back in to her pocket. She removed her glasses and rubbed her forehead. Why did she have to find such interactions so sexy? Shifting awkwardly in her seat, she glanced at the clock. Only three more hours of treatment.

Her phone vibrated again.

Sharon's brow creased. Who was calling her _now_?

She reached in to her pocket again, placing her glasses back on.

Chief Johnson. Again.

"What?" She whispered crassly in to the phone.

"I'm…I'm sorry." Brenda sounded deflated on the other end of the phone.

"You've been awfully sorry lately," Sharon decided that if the younger woman insisted on bugging her with pointless phone calls, she could at least have some fun with her.

"I've just…" Sharon and Brenda were alike in that neither liked to air their dirty laundry to the public. Sharon knew she wouldn't get an answer out of Brenda just like Brenda knew she wouldn't get an answer when she asked, "Where are you? How come you get to leave early?" She was deflecting from her own situation.

"I'm dying in a hospital." Sharon flatly stated, realizing just how true her words were.

"No, really. Where are you?" Brenda, ever the curious woman, wanted to know. She hadn't believed a word Sharon had just said. Sharon grinned to herself.

Since Sharon had started with the truth, she had to back pedal with a lie. "I don't really think it's any of your business."

"It will become my business when I have to report you to Chief Pope. Wouldn't want my star FID investigator to get suspended, now would we?" Brenda's words were full of malice that Sharon could only discern were not truly directed at her.

"If you have called to insult me, then I will be in the office tomorrow morning. You can do it in person." Sharon licked her lips. An awful metallic taste had surfaced on the tip of her tongue. Damn chemo.

Knowing that her opponent had no further threats up her sleeve, Sharon opened her mouth to end the conversation, but Brenda's voice stopped her.

"Oh, Capt'n." Brenda's voice, suddenly uncharacteristically melancholy, stopped Sharon from hanging up. Something was on her mind. She wanted to talk to Sharon about it, Sharon could tell, but the older woman wasn't sure she was ready to have Brenda Leigh Johnson confide in her.

"What is it, Chief?" Her words were measured, frightened by what she might hear.

"This is awkward," Brenda prefaced her next words with this statement, knowing neither woman was comfortable in out of work situations together.

"It certainly has become that way," Sharon leaned her head back in the chair and closed her eyes. What did Brenda want?

"Can I meet you…are you…"

Was Brenda Leigh trying to ask Sharon out to…_talk_ to her? A wave of electricity and excitement, which started low and burned upwards, ran through Sharon's entire body.

"I know we don't particularly like one another, but I just…I need…" Brenda sighed.

"I'm free in three hours. There's a little café two blocks from the station. Meet me there." Sharon rubbed her forehead, wondering why she was being so nice to the annoying Brenda Leigh. Why had she agreed to meet her? Was chemo causing her to go insane?

...

Brenda had almost not shown up. She had become increasingly nervous as the clock ticked on nearing the time she had agreed to meet Sharon Raydor. What in the world had driven her to ask to meet the woman outside of work? Even more, what had compelled her to discuss her own private life with the woman? It was so out of character; yet if anyone knew what to do, it would be Sharon Raydor.

Brenda was certain the decisive woman could wrap her brain around the situation and tell Brenda exactly what to do. She just had to, Fritz was beginning to fade quickly and soon he would be gone, off to DC to begin his new job – with or without her.

Brenda had a decision to make. And so she would talk it over with her…colleague. (She wouldn't exactly call her a friend, even if she had introduced the brunette woman to her Momma and Daddy as her friend.)

Brenda steadied herself outside the café door, knowing she was already twenty minutes late. She wondered if the Captain would have left already, and she quickly began to hope she had. What had possessed her to think this was a good idea? It was terrible. Brenda didn't want to confront this woman and she didn't want to confront the very real issue at hand.

But then she caught sight of the older woman, casually lounging at a table, sipping coffee and scrolling through what could only be work e-mails. She did not look as menacing as she usually did when she came storming in to the murder room, or in to Brenda's office. No, this was a more laid back, relaxed Captain Raydor.

Brenda watched as the brunette brought the coffee cup to her lips. Raydor's eyes shifted upwards, narrowing in Brenda's direction as she sipped the liquid.

Realizing that green eyes had spotted her, Brenda knew she could no longer hover outside the café. There was no turning back.

Brenda pushed through the café door and stepped inside, glancing around at the people scattered throughout the room, all seated at tables – mostly alone – reading books or working on computers. Did Captain Raydor come here often? Brenda had never been to this place before in her life.

She moved slowly towards Sharon, her eyes embarrassed to meet the green orbs she could feel burning in to her own visage. When she reached the table, she took off her jacket, let her bag fall to her hand, and sat down across from the brunette.

"I didn't think you were coming." The cool, smooth voice intoned.

"I didn't think you would come." Brenda replied, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in her polyester – spandex floral print dress.

"I'm still not sure why I did." Sharon sipped her coffee again and then sat the cup on the table.

Brenda's eyes moved to take in the light lipstick ring around the top of the cup. It was a nice in-between of red and pink. It suited Captain Raydor, she decided as her eyes moved up to take in the succulent lips before her. Her heart beat faster for reasons she couldn't comprehend. Sharon Raydor made her nervous.

"Right," Brenda looked back down at her lap. "Thank you for coming, Capt'n."

Brenda could sense Sharon nodding, staring her down as she tried to figure out how to begin. This was complicated. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

...

Chemo had left that damn metal taste in her mouth. Sharon had overcompensated with mints on her way to the café, but the mints mixed with the metal did little to aid the taste of the French vanilla coffee.

She licked her lips and focused intently on the woman before her. Brenda looked so frightened by her. She was submissive in her presence, yet overly distracted. Something was on Brenda's mind and Sharon realized she was about to become privy to this private information.

It was odd to see the blonde woman outside of their normal work atmosphere. Apart from on scene investigations surrounded by the people they worked with, neither had spent any time alone outside the office. The prospect of having Brenda Leigh Johnson all to herself made the unnerved Sharon just a bit nervous.

Her eyes trailed down to Brenda's horrid Walmart floral print dress and even though it was not the slinky black number Sharon's mind conjured up when she thought of the Chief, she felt the same arousal her fantasy created. She realized her eyes had stopped on the younger woman's breasts. Coughing, Sharon quickly looked away.

Brenda was talking…and probably had been for some time. "I just don't know who else to go to. I suppose I could talk it through with my Momma, but she would just get worried." Had Brenda just said Momma? "I don't want to discuss it with any of the guys in the precinct, I just…I didn't feel like I had anyone else to go to." Her hands were pushing Sharon's cup of coffee back and forth. "Do you mind if I try this?"

Sharon held up her hand, "Take it." She was done with it anyway. She couldn't very well enjoy it with this disgusting taste in her mouth.

Brenda sipped the coffee, her mouth covering the exact spot where Sharon's had only moments before. It sent a chill down Sharon's spin. "This is very good."

"It's French vanilla," Sharon leaned forward, "Chief Johnson, why am I here?" She clearly enunciated each word and the younger woman froze mid sip.

Brenda's eyes fell and she looked just as frightened and embarrassed and dejected as she had when she first walked in.

Sharon decided to take a wild guess. "Is this about Agent Howard?"

Brenda's eyes shot up. "What do you know 'bout it?"

"Nothing," Sharon could feel the other woman getting defensive.

"Oh," Brenda frowned, but then settled back down. "I just thought…well he…" She couldn't find the right words to say what was on her mind, just like Sharon had no idea how to tell her two older children she had cancer. She had not made those phone calls. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"He got a promotion." Brenda finally blurted out and then sipped Sharon's coffee as if it were alcohol.

Sharon's eyes widened, "how…great?"

"In DC." Brenda sat the now empty cup back on the table and looked down.

DC. That meant that Brenda was now faced with the task of choosing between her career and her marriage. And she wanted Sharon's advice?

"Are you going?" Sharon found herself asking, making the very real realization that Brenda Leigh Johnson might leave. That would mean Sharon was the only woman left as head of a department; that meant the fiery blonde woman who kept Major Crimes running and in line would have to be replaced, most likely by some man who was even harder to work with. She did not like these prospects.

Besides that, she realized that Chief Johnson would be gone from her life and they would have no reason to stay in contact. None at all. The thought depressed Sharon further, though it probably should have made her happy.

"I don't know." The words slid quietly out, as if Brenda didn't want to voice her hesitations, perhaps she thought it made her look like a bad wife. Though her response made Sharon feel a bit better. The Chief was not yet considering the prospects of leaving forever.

"Well, I don't see how I can help you." Sharon found herself coldly stating. She really had no solution for the Chief. She knew that whatever she might say would hardly influence the woman.

...

Of course Sharon Raydor was a pointless person to expel her personal problems to. Brenda should have known better than to divulge her marital conundrum, but she had thought…Sharon just seemed so on the ball, like she would have the answers. Sharon was knowledgeable of the world; she had to tell Brenda what to do.

Secretly Brenda hoped the brunette would tell her that her job was invaluable, that Major Crimes couldn't work without her, that she needed her…

No, Sharon needed no one. It was worthless for Brenda to even consider that Sharon would ever say that.

Sighing, Brenda placed her head in her hands. "I just don't know what to do." She whispered, feeling tears threatening to fall, but she kept them at bay, not wanting Sharon to see her frustration, her sadness, her conflict.

She felt a hesitant hand cover her shoulder. "I can't make this decision for you, but I think it would be a waste for you to resign now." Sharon whispered, as if no one should hear but Brenda.

The hand was quickly removed from her arm. The moment had been all a bit too personal for the both of them, but Brenda felt secure for the first time in a long time. She felt suddenly calm. Peering out from between her fingers she saw the older woman check her phone as if they had not just connected on some level other than hating one another, as if she was bored with her.

"I have to go," Sharon pocketed the phone and reached for her black trench coat. After reaching for her purse she turned and put her hand reassuringly over Brenda's. Though her words were anything but, "I'm sorry, but this is a decision you have to make. I hope you figure it out."

Brenda rolled her eyes and as Sharon moved to stand up, she immediately missed the warmth of her hand covering her own. There was something about Sharon Raydor that intrigued Brenda Leigh Johnson.

At that moment her decision was clearer than it had been for weeks.

Brenda turned briefly to gaze after the brunette as she made her way swiftly out of the café.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The effects of the chemo drug wore off with nasty side-effects three days after her weekly treatment. Sharon was addressing Boswell about a case, and all of the sudden she felt bile rise to her mouth. Her tongue had been dry all morning and she'd downed water, but nothing had helped. Now, she had to race to the bathroom to expel what little she had been consuming. Her appetite had dwindled considerably. Her clothes no longer fit. She was losing weight. She felt like death.

She vomited in to the precinct toilet, vomited until she was dry heaving. She felt like her throat was on fire. She wanted drugs, she wanted anything to keep the pain at bay, but it seemed as if nothing she was taking helped. She reached for a bottle of pills she kept in her pocket and took one out.

Staggering to the bathroom sink, she cupped her hands and swallowed the pill down with the sink water. She hoped it would stay down. She went through the process of washing out her mouth, wiping off some disgusting vomit that had found its way in to her hair.

She wanted to puke again. She had to steady herself against the sink. She needed to get her body under-control.

But it was no longer under her control. It was taking over. It was going to kill her.

...

Brenda sat at her kitchen island, swirling wine around in a glass. She heard Fritz packing things in their bedroom. His shirts, his pants, socks, the books he kept in his bedside table, his alarm clock, his shoes. They would soon all be gone. The house would be empty, save for Brenda's items.

She was a horrible wife. She was convinced she was not cut out for marriage. She was selfish. Fritz had made her thoroughly aware of this fact.

Brenda sipped her wine and thought of Sharon Raydor. She had no idea what possessed her to think of the woman at a time like this, but something about their previous conversation several weeks ago had left Brenda feeling a huge sense of calm.

Had it been merely years before, she would have never considered Sharon a source for anything other than anger and frustration, but now…now the woman served as a beacon for Brenda's slowly sinking ship. She had the urge to sneak out the door and drive to the woman's house, but she quickly realized she'd almost drank an entire bottle of wine, and she had no idea where the other woman lived.

What if she lived with someone? From Brenda's constant replaying of their evening together she had begun to dwell on the end of their conversation. Sharon had left after receiving a text message. Was the woman otherwise involved with someone? Did she have a boyfriend, perhaps? Was she married?

Brenda realized she knew very little about her subordinate officer.

"Brenda?"

She quickly snapped out of her thoughts, flushing bright red, wondering if Fritz could read her mind. Did he know that she was thinking about Sharon Raydor? Honestly, of all the people she could think about.

"What?" Brenda turned to face her husband…or was he about to become her ex-husband? She wasn't entirely certain where their relationship was headed.

"Do you want me to take Joel?" He was holding the cat. He looked so sad, so dejected just standing there in the kitchen with his sweats and an old t-shirt.

Joel. Their cat. Brenda didn't want Joel to leave, but she knew she did not possess a propensity towards raising the animal. She'd probably forget to feed him and kill the poor helpless thing. "Yes, Fritzy." She sipped her wine and hung her head.

She could feel his eyes on her. They no longer burned in to her in the focused way they once had. Now he seemed just as distracted as her, but he was still standing there, staring at her.

"What?" She asked, giving him a quick glance.

Instead of responding, Fritz produced a manila envelope and placed it on the island.

Brenda bit her lower lip and nodded.

...

"You need to eat." Lucas sighed as he took his mother's untouched plate of grilled chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes from before her. She had no appetite. He knew her medications would do that, but he also knew she needed to eat.

His mother was distracted and had been since she'd arrived home. She looked miserable. He wished she did not have to deal with this stupid cancer and her demanding job. But she would work herself to an early grave before she gave it up, of that Lucas was certain.

"Are you my mother?" Sharon eyed him.

"I feel like it." Lucas placed her food in a Tupperware container before putting their dirty dishes in the sink.

His mother remained deep in thought at the kitchen table.

He watched her for a moment, frightened for her. She wasn't herself. She seemed depressed, resigned, lifeless. Her body was withering away and Lucas knew he could not persuade her to eat, nor could he make her happy. Of course he knew she was happy with him, she loved him. But a son could not bring his mother out of a depression.

He would give anything to go back to the night before she found out. He wanted their lives to be normal again. He worried that her decline in health would result in Lucas returning to his father. He didn't want that. His father was an awful man. A man his mother had become too reliant on and too forgiving of. Their marriage had been one argument after another.

Lucas disliked the hostile environment his father succeeded in creating. He could live with one of his siblings, but Katherine was newly married and Jonathan's job left him traveling. There was no room for Lucas in either of their lives.

"What are you looking at?" Sharon didn't have to look at Lucas to know his gaze was on her.

Lucas cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly embarrassed…and sad.

"Come here," Sharon held out her hand for her youngest child.

Lucas bit his lip and stepped forward, in to his mother's arm. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close to her.

"I'm going to get better." She stated, distantly.

Lucas let his fingers graze through his mother's hair. It was soft, but not as full as it had once been. The chemo treatments, while not leaving his mother completely bald, had left her with half the volume she'd started with. It frightened him when he pulled a few strands away in his fingers.

"I know," he responded, just as distractedly.

"I think I'm going to head up to bed."

Lucas nodded, leaning down to kiss his mother's forehead.

...

Brenda found herself standing in line at the café, craving French vanilla coffee. Her eyes darted, almost ashamedly, to the table where she had met Sharon Raydor. She half expected the woman to be seated there, looking as casual and laid back as she had been the other night, but instead a young man with a Mac occupied Sharon's seat. Yes, it had become Sharon's seat.

Brenda had no idea when these nearly obsessive thoughts about the Captain had begun, but she found solace in them. To her Sharon was an uncomplicated distraction from her life.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a young man was trying to get her attention.

Brenda glanced up and realized she was at the counter. "Oh…sorry." Brenda blinked, snapping back to reality. She nearly blushed as she asked, "Can I get a venti French vanilla, please." She pulled out her wallet, still in a daze. She wondered if she would run in to the Captain on her way out of the café. The thought sent her heart fluttering, her stomach lurching.

The boy took her card and in seconds she had a coffee cup – sans Sharon Raydor's lipstick on the rim – of French vanilla coffee and she took a sip. It didn't taste the same. It wasn't how she remembered it. Something was missing; the Captain had added something to her coffee.

Brenda poured some milk and two packets of sugar in to the drink. It was sweeter than she remembered, but the Captain had definitely added some sugar.

She moved her hand to put her wallet away; her fingers brushed the manila envelope. Reality sat in. She was throwing away her marriage for this job. Or perhaps their marriage had been over years ago. She remembered the first time Fritz had brought up – or actually had not brought up – a promotion. He had been afraid of her answer, and though she had assuaged him with kisses and sex, they both had known that when the time actually came she wouldn't have gone with him.

Major Crimes needed her, and Fritz…Fritz was no longer the adorable man she had married. He was more of a woman than she was. Yes he was gorgeous and perfect and wonderful in bed, but there was just something missing. They'd grown apart. Or perhaps she had let work interfere and that had created a crack in their relationship.

Either way, Brenda felt guilty for hurting Fritz, but the glimmer of freedom their divorce gave her ignited within her happiness, a sense of relief, of a burden lifting from her shoulders.

She realized, as she made her way down the road to the LAPD, that this was her chance to start over.

...

A donut was thrust in to Sharon Raydor's eyesight as she made her way across FID, desperately trying to make it to her office without throwing up again. But the sight of the offending food made her gag reflexes flair and she put a hand to her mouth. She had just come from the bathroom and she was sick of being in that horribly smelling room and especially sick of throwing up.

"Captain, we just got a call from the Gibson family." Lieutenant Miles informed her and she put up her hand.

"Not right now, please put the number on my desk," she squeaked out with uncharacteristically fast speed.

She turned on her heels and went right back down the hall to the bathroom. This would not do. She had not been in her office for nearly thirty minutes. She was exhausted from vomiting, light-headed, and sickly feeling.

As she emptied the contents of her stomach in to the toilet – trying her hardest not to put her perfectly tailored pant leg on the ground, or get vomit in her hair – she heard the door to the bathroom open.

She could hardly care that someone else now occupied the bathroom with her because the vomit just kept coming. She began to dry heave and hoped that soon it would be over. She thought of the bottles of newly acquired drugs tucked away in her desk. Anything sounded good about right now. This was like having a hangover but she hadn't even gotten to enjoy the drinking to warrant it.

"Capt'n?" Sugar sweet Southern drawled her title.

_Oh fuck_, she thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

"Yes?" Her voice was hoarse, raspy as if she'd been chain-smoking for the last twenty-four days, which she would much prefer right now over vomiting in a toilet.

"Are you all right?" Brenda had the nerve to ask.

"Just fine." Sharon, finally finished dry heaving, flushed the toilet and leaned up against the cool metal of the wall.

"I need to talk about this case with you, but if this is a bad time…" Brenda knew it was a bad time, why did she even need to say it? "Are you sure you're all right? You know if you have the flu you should go on home. I'm sure that Boswell could handle things, but Lord only knows I might have to strangle him if he did. You know he's not my favorite."

"Brenda!" Sharon found her voice and called out. "Please, stop talking." The woman drove her insane when she went off on her tangents, constantly talking. It was giving her a headache.

"Sorry, Capt'n." Brenda was right next to the stall now. Christ, couldn't she leave her alone?

"I'm fine," Sharon lied, taking a deep, calming breath. "Please, can I discuss this with you later, Chief?" She paused for a moment before adding, "Preferably not in the bathroom."

"Um, certainly, Capt'n." Brenda sounded worried now. Great, just great. "Are you sure you're…"

"I'm fine. Please…go." Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose.

She could hear Brenda open her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Instead the younger woman stamped her foot lightly in anger on the ground before parading out of the bathroom.

Knowing that she was finally alone, Sharon sneaked out of the stall and moved to the sink to wash out her mouth.

How in the world had Brenda Leigh known that she was in here? She would kill Boswell for saying anything, if he had.

God damn it, now she was going to have to come up with some excuse for the Chief as to why she'd found her throwing up in the bathroom. _And_ if she saw another donut or morsel of food she would see to it that all food was removed from her department or so help her God she'd strangle someone.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Brenda intently scrutinized the woman before her. It was as if she was seeing the Captain for the first time. The woman's lips were moving, but Brenda was not focused on that smooth as butter voice. No, she was taking in the brunette's sunken cheeks, the way her clothes were hanging off her already tiny frame. Her breasts, which Brenda had always thought of as supple, looked nearly non-existent under her power suit. She was sick. Brenda didn't know how long the woman had been sick, but she looked very ill.

Had Brenda been so self-absorbed in her own personal drama that she had missed the way Sharon Raydor's cheeks were now sunken in and the pain that was now etched in the corners of her eyes? Come to think of it, Brenda had all but overlooked Sharon's passing off of cases to Boswell. She'd thought Sharon had gotten lazy, sloppy; but the opposite now seemed true. Sharon was working overtime to

"Chief Johnson." The woman's voice was irritated. Brenda's eyes quickly snapped back to hollow greens, burning vehemently in to her.

"Sor-sorry, Capt'n," it was the second time that day that Brenda had apologized to her subordinate officer. Usually it was the other way around, but today Brenda was taking notice of the woman she had once loathed. Now she had some school girl curiosity about the woman, and that had transferred in to worry for the other woman's well being.

Sharon sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Have you been paying attention at all, Chief? I need to know that you will cooperate with our investigation in to the McKinley case. You do realize that an officer fired his weapon; that is enough cause for us to…"

But Brenda was hardly paying attention. "Of course, Capt'n." She found herself saying.

Sharon's eyes went wide. Life flashed through emerald. "Are you insulting me, Chief?"

"What? No, I'm just agreein' with you." Brenda stuttered, stamping her foot. The woman was aggravating.

Sharon glanced over Brenda's shoulder and then got up. Moving rather quickly she closed her office door and then turned to face Brenda. "Whatever you witnessed in the bathroom earlier today is nothing. I am perfectly fine. I am capable of doing my job, so please do _not_ treat me like I am an idiot."

"I wasn't, Capt'n." Brenda insisted.

Sharon rolled her eyes, "you _never_ agree to cooperate that easily."

"Honestly, _Sharon_, I am not _trying_ to do anything. You just look…so sick." She hadn't meant to say it, but it came out. The truth.

Sharon closed her eyes. "I'm _fine_, Brenda."

The blonde stamped her foot again and then moved towards the door, closer to Sharon. "Why don't you try eatin' something, Capt'n?"

"I might ask you the same thing, Chief." Sharon gave her a once over with her eyes, their bodies entirely too close to one another.

Brenda – feeling suddenly very uncomfortable under the intense gaze of burning emerald eyes - readjusted her suit jacket over her dress and shook out her long mane of blonde hair. She would not be ruffled by Captain Raydor's insults. The woman was enraging. "Would you please move?" Brenda's eyes had moved to the floor, she no longer wished to be insulted by the Captain.

Sharon slid to the side and pulled the door open. Brenda could feel the brunette's eyes on her as she walked out the door.

...

Sharon reclined on her bed, a cup of tea in hand, paperwork nearly falling off her lap, and a bottle of pills nearby. She was exhausted, weary from the day. Her TV was turned to a mindless criminal drama – poorly depicting the process of finding and catching a criminal – but her mind was far from the plotline.

She sipped her tea, her mind wondering to her conversation with Brenda that day. They had stood so close to one another, so close that Sharon had smelled the younger woman's mocha flavored breath. It was enticing, that aroma that on anyone else would be revolting, but on Brenda had been delicious.

She had been so rude to the Chief. She knew it was a tactic to keep people at an arm's length, to keep herself from getting too overly invested in anyone at work. She had not been expecting, however, for the blonde to walk in on her in the bathroom. It was the last thing she had wanted for the Chief to witness, and now Brenda Leigh was _upset_, and _concerned_ for Sharon's well being.

Sharon rolled her eyes and sat her tea cup down. She didn't need pity from the blonde...yet despite her displayed anger towards the woman, she had felt something else, perhaps relief that Chief Johnson had actually…cared.

She needed to erase these thoughts from her mind, especially the intimate thoughts which had crossed her mind standing so close to the woman earlier that day. She was probably about to have her left breast chopped off – most likely she would not opt for reconstructive surgery because, who was she kidding, she had no one to impress – and then if the mastectomy didn't work she'd probably end up dead anyway. How could an infatuation with a superior officer at work do anything other than cause heartache and added stress to her already taxing existence?

What she needed to focus on now was talking to her children, informing them of her condition. It wasn't fair to keep this news from them. Or her mother. Oh God her mother would be bereft to know her daughter had cancer.

She did _not_ need to sit around concerning herself with her married co-worker. Female co-worker at that.

...

Brenda felt restless in her suddenly silent house. She was upset, upset by the fact that Fritz was gone and she had hardly put up a fight, and upset that Sharon had yelled at her. She had only been concerned with her welfare; she had not intended to uncover some hidden weakness. She had been genuinely concerned about the Captain. Something was wrong. She had talked with Chief Pope, but he had feigned ignorance to Sharon's condition.

_"Perhaps she has the flu?" Will walked around his desk to take a seat. He was less than pleased that Brenda was intruding upon his much needed paperwork time with frivolous, _personal_ demands in to Captain Raydor's private life. _

_"It doesn't look that way, Will. What's going on with her?" Brenda was livid, seeking answers she knew were none of her business – yet she was curious. _

_"If she wanted you to know, I'm sure she'd tell you." Will shrugged, putting on his glasses. _

_"What is there to know?" Brenda crossed her arms defiantly, waiting for an answer. _

_Will sighed and took off his glasses for the second time in Brenda's presence. "Brenda, you do realize I am in no place to discuss Captain Raydor's private affairs with you. I'm kind of shocked and surprised by your level of interest and inquiry in to her life. I would assume you'd be grateful that she was under the weather."_

_"I am _not_! Not with that horrid Boswell takin' over for her. He's a nightmare." Brenda whined. _

_"So you've mentioned, but Brenda, this is really none of your business. Now, please. I have work to do. If you have more important things to discuss – like the Graham case – then please, tell me. If not, you know where the door is." Will glanced in the door's general direction, giving an all too obvious hint for Brenda to leave. _

_Brenda opened her mouth to protest, but when Will put those damn glasses back on and glanced down at his paperwork she knew she no longer had a captive audience. She left. _

"So what's wrong with her?" Brenda sighed, sipping another glass of wine. As a detective, Brenda hated not knowing all the facts. It drove her absolutely insane.

As a woman just recently separated and on the way to a divorce, she should probably be mourning her lost relationship, but instead she was obsessing over her co-worker. Good Lord.

She needed to stop thinking about Fritz _and_ Sharon Raydor. She _knew_ the brunette didn't give her a second thought anyway.

…

"What the hell happened here?" Sharon Raydor's low, smooth voice cut through the Major Crimes investigation scene. She walked in to the tenth story office, marveling at the sprawling windows overlooking downtown LA. This was an unlikely location for a shooting to take place, but an officer had been shot. According to Chief Pope, the suspect – a businessman - had been charged with fraudulent behavior, embezzlement of funds and an investigator had delivered a search warrant to access all of his files. Clearly he had something to hide.

Brenda Leigh turned and straightened up, whisking a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes with her wrist, avoiding her gloved hand. "This isn't a FID investigation." She frowned, meeting inquiring green eyes.

"Oh, I believe it became a FID investigation when Mr. Harris Langston filed a complaint against the LAPD." The captain enunciated each word methodically, her eyes flashing that old hint of a challenge in Brenda's direction.

"But _Mr. Harris Langston_ is the prime suspect in this case, Capt'n." Brenda cried incredulously.

"He has also decided to sue the LAPD for improperly gaining a search warrant," Sharon shrugged, stepping over a bullet casing to come closer to the blonde.

"He shot the investigator who delivered the search warrant; he can't sue us after he shot at the LAPD." Brenda stomped her foot.

"He can and he did," Sharon insisted. "So tell me what happened here. Is the investigator dead?"

"Critical condition, for now." Brenda sighed, turning her attention back to the desk where she was flipping through files. "I can't believe he shot at Detective Marshall for deliverin' a search warrant."

"It's white collar crime, Chief." Sharon quietly stated.

"Course, and that's why we get sued," Brenda sounded deflated. "Did Detective Marshall acquire the search warrant illegally?"

"I don't know," Sharon coolly responded. She had just been instructed to come to the crime scene. She would have to talk to the DA's office immediately following her little field trip to the crime scene. "Can someone please run me through what happened here?" Sharon asked, turning to look around the office.

"I can, Capt'n." Brenda grabbed her arm, invading her personal space entirely too much.

Gabriel and Sanchez glanced at one another, confusion lacing their features. Chief Johnson never offered to fill the Captain in. Ever.

Sharon seemed equally thrown off. She looked over at the blonde, a questioning, bemused look flitting over her features. "Okay, Chief."

Why was Brenda still touching her arm?

…

"Chief," Sharon walked in to the murder room, causing everyone to glance up and then immediately look away. She was used to her unwelcome greeting. The blonde looked up from the desk she was leaning over, taking off her glasses to address the Captain.

"Yes, Capt'n?" Brenda looked her in the eyes, her lips tugging in to a slight smile.

This was different, Sharon thought as she stepped closer to the blonde. "I've talked to the DA's office and Detective Marshall did not properly acquire the search warrant for the documents he insisted he needed from Mr. Langston. I have opened an internal affairs investigation."

"Against a man who is layin' in a hospital bed fightin' for his life? Are you insane?" Brenda's smile slowly faded as she advanced on Sharon Raydor.

"I am following procedure, Chief." Sharon willed herself to not step backwards, away from the advancing woman.

Brenda looked as if she wanted to blow a gasket, but instead of opening a verbal assault on the brunette she bit her lip. Her feet came to a stop inches from Sharon Raydor's body, their eyes level. "My office, now." She growled.

Sharon could smell the mocha on the blonde's breath again, the mix of coffee and candy. She resented the fact that she was distracted by the Chief's mouth; by the way she was working her teeth against her lower lip.

_Stop_. Sharon instructed herself, mentally willing her feet to turn and to walk with dignity towards the Chief's office.

…

"What the hell are you doin', Sharon?" Brenda whispered as she walked behind her desk, pulling open her candy drawer, rummaging for something to assuage her anger.

"My job, Chief." Sharon crossed her arms and leaned back against Brenda's closed office door.

"I can't believe you're helping a man sue _us _when a man is dyin' cause he shot at 'em." Brenda's voice acquired a heavy Southern twang when she got worked up. "And it's impeding on _our_ job." Brenda retorted, finally finding a Snickers bar. A Snickers was just what she needed at that moment.

"It seems, Chief, that my job often impedes on your job. I cannot change what is happening, but when someone sues the LAPD, I have to take that law suit seriously. I have to do _my_ job." Sharon's voice did not rise above a whisper.

_That woman_, how she could be so controlled when Brenda's blood boiled was beyond her.

"You know it would really help things if we could just…work together sometimes." Sharon's voice was slow and cautious.

Brenda sighed as if defeated. She studied Sharon, watching her as she waited expectantly for a response. All Brenda could think about was how angry Sharon could make her, but how much she really wanted to know more about the brunette. She needed to know what was going on with her. Today she looked exhausted.

Brenda stepped forward, closer to the brunette. A piece of that gorgeous, long hair had slid out of place and Brenda had the urge to sweep it back to where it rightfully belonged.

Sharon's eyes flashed wide as Brenda came closer to her. Brenda knew that she was getting entirely too near the brunette, but she was so vulnerable in that moment, in the moment where she had just asked Brenda if they could work together…instead of against one another.

…

Brenda was unconsciously moving closer and closer. Though she was wearing a horrible cardigan and flowing printed skirt, Sharon immediately flashed to her midnight Brenda Leigh fantasy. She was sure her cheeks colored right then, but she could not stop the path her thoughts were suddenly taking. She could feel her breathing become labored, she could tell her chest was heaving up and down, her eyes most likely betrayed the fear, trepidation…arousal she was suddenly experiencing.

"Chief," Her voice was husky, revealing far too much. She wished she'd remained silent. But her voice did not deter the rapidly approaching blonde. "Brenda," she harshly whispered, her hand reaching for the door knob.

Her fingers found cool metal as Brenda's hand reached out, touching her hair, tugging gently at an apparently misplaced strand. Her fingers gently grazed Sharon's cheek and the older woman shuddered - which was entirely inappropriate.

Brenda's eyes were glazed over, seemingly mesmerized by Sharon's presence before her, so near her. Sharon felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest, she could not look away, yet she desperately needed to, she needed to extract herself from this situation. She was very glad that Brenda's blinds were closed.

"What's wrong with you?" Brenda's head cocked to the side, her eyes betraying genuine concern, her hand coming to cradle Sharon's cheek.

Sharon's eyes closed. She did not want to tell Brenda, she did not want to give herself away; she did not want to be standing here, her pulse racing, her body aroused, all too aware of Brenda's hand, her body too close to her own.

"I have cancer." She whispered, the words falling out of her mouth without even realizing that she'd said them.

And then Brenda Leigh Johnson did the most unthinkable, unimaginable thing.

She kissed Sharon Raydor.

It was brief, almost like a kiss between relatives, chaste, lips merely brushing tight lips.

Sharon pressed at Brenda, pushing her away. She needed to leave. She had just done two things she had sworn she would never do; tell Brenda Leigh Johnson that she had cancer and kiss her.

She turned away from the blonde, hoping that her cheeks did not betray the warmth she was experiencing. She was embarrassed and frightened. Her fingers fumbled with the knob, she felt Brenda's hand on her back, trying to stop her, but she was undeterred. She was leaving that office.

The Major Crimes team seemed nonplussed by the spectacle of Sharon Raydor fleeing the Chief's office and for that she was thankful.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It had taken every ounce of strength for Brenda Leigh Johnson to not go running after Sharon Raydor that afternoon. For Christ's sake the woman had told her she had cancer and then she'd kissed the intoxicating Captain. Good Lord. Whatever had possessed her to actually lean forward and place her lips to the older woman's was beyond her grasp. It was unreasonable, unfathomable. The woman might be dying and Brenda had kissed her. What in the world was she thinking?

She swirled the scotch around in her tumbler, watching as the ice shifted in the glass. Placing a cigarette between dry lips, she inhaled. The smoke filled her lungs, burning. She hadn't smoked for years, at least not religiously. She had just needed something to make the memory of that day disappear. The cigarettes had seemed like a good idea to accompany the scotch. To accompany the atrocity that had become her life.

Brenda was alone in her home, alone with no one to comfort her, no one to yell at her to clean the dishes, to come to bed, to remember to order in. She had no one and she'd just kissed her possibly dying subordinate officer in her office. Feet away from her team.

She had let her lips touch forbidden lips; lips which were always perfectly moist looking, covered with that tantalizing shade of pale red-violet.

"Oh good Lord," Brenda sighed, taking another inhale on her cigarette before scratching her forehead. "I can't keep thinkin' things like that." The scratch turned into a rub as she tried to rid her mind of thoughts of Sharon Raydor.

She sipped her scotch and turned on the television. She needed mindless stimulation, to forget what was happening, what she had done.

How would she face the Captain tomorrow?

…

Lucas peered in to the living room, staring in at a most horrifying scene.

His mother had not moved from her spot on the couch since she had cleaned up from dinner. She'd come home, remained mute while making salmon and pasta, had not spoken – or hardly touched her food – washed the dishes, left the kitchen spotless and then had sat down on the couch. She had not moved since then.

She sat, staring blankly at the wall.

He swallowed, his palms sweaty. He wasn't sure if he should interfere with his mother in this condition, or leave her alone.

Turning on his heels, Lucas moved quietly in to the kitchen. He flipped on the light over the stove, the kitchen eerie with the small amount of illumination. He pulled out the coffee pot and checked it for old grounds before pulling down his mother's favorite blend; French vanilla. She loved French vanilla coffee. It was the only sweet thing he ever knew her to indulge in, for the woman hardly ever touched dessert.

In a matter of minutes the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. Lucas pulled down a mug and filled it to the brim, adding Vanilla soymilk – the kind his mother loved – to the coffee before stirring it.

Taking his concoction in to the living room, he slowly approached his mother. The woman did not move, not even an inch as he came closer.

"Sharon," Lucas whispered, stopping right in front of her, blocking her line of vision.

"Oh," she simply stated as he handed her the warm mug.

"I made you some coffee." He explained when she gave him a look of confusion.

"Thank you, Luc." She held the cup, staring down in to the mocha colored coffee. She remained quiet, looking completely blank, as if she had just shut down.

"Mother," Lucas took a seat next to her on the couch.

She raised her eyebrows and held the coffee cup to her lips, testing its warmth.

"Mother, what is…what's going on?" He was very worried for her. She hardly ever remained this silent. Something had happened.

"Mmm," Sharon sighed in to the coffee.

Lucas rolled his eyes and sat back against the couch sofa. "This isn't fair." He picked at his jacket, running his fingers down the string of his hoodie.

"What?" Sharon asked distractedly.

"I'm sick of worrying about you. It's not fair that I'm the only one here for you. It's not fair!" He cried, fed up with the way his mother was acting, fed up with the fact that he couldn't help her.

"Lucas," Sharon's voice was even. She reached out to touch his cheek but he moved away. He didn't want her comfort. "Luc! Listen to me." She grabbed his chin and made him look at her. "I know it's not fair. It's not fair for you and it's not fair for me, but we have to take care of each other, okay? We've always had each other, honey. Some days are just better than others." Her voice had lost its intensity, and Lucas felt the anger leave his body. He allowed his mother's hand to run lazily through his hair. "I'm okay, all right?" She let a slight smile tug at her eyes, the wrinkles Lucas had come to admire on his mother creasing as she did so.

Lucas nodded. He eased in to her embrace, allowing her arm to encompass him. She kissed his forehead.

…

The continuous light hum of the vibrator did very little to quell the fluctuating, horribly distracted line of thought racing through Sharon's mind. She had thought she could easily work out the ramifications of her afternoon with a little self-tryst, but the level of frustration would not abate.

She tried to think of a long, hard cock pressing delightfully inside of her, but that hardly did anything for her. When she closed her eyes, she saw chocolate brown eyes, hungrily stalking towards her. She could taste the chocolate scented breath on her lips; she felt the softness of Brenda Leigh's full, pink candy mouth.

Sharon's eyes came open and she found her index finger grazing over her lips; lips that less than six hours ago had been touched by the bold blonde.

What in the world had she been thinking? It was wrong for her to do that both because they were at work, in a professional setting, and because she was married, for Christ's sake. Brenda had no right, no right at all to walk up to Sharon and kiss her like that. In the middle of a case where they both needed to be present, where they needed to work together…not kiss one another.

"Oh…God," Sharon hummed, the kiss playing over and over in her mind, no matter how wrong it seemed. Her body was humming, and a huge cock was the furthest thing from her mind as her clitoris pulsed along with the vibrator. She could feel the climax building and every last thought fell to the blonde woman, standing before her, touching her cheek, brushing their lips together.

The scream that exited the Captain's mouth was unlike any she had produced before in the heat of the moment. It rung out in the quiet, dimly lit room so loudly that she was certain it had echoed around the entire house. And all from the memory of a simple, brief, stupid kiss.

Sharon fell back against the bed, hearing footsteps pounding down the hallway. _Shit._

"Sharon? Are you all right?" Her son's concerned voice came from outside her door.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

"I'm fine, Luc. Really, I just…I had a bad dream. I'm fine." She shifted uncomfortably in the bed, silencing the vibrator as quickly as possible in case he decided to intrude upon her – Sharon had never been one to lock her door.

"Oh…okay." Lucas' voice was still concerned, but Sharon knew he wouldn't come inside.

"Go to bed, honey. I'm all right." She called out, glad her steady voice held. Her heart was pounding in her chest, ringing in her ears.

Christ, she needed to practice more self-control – including keeping herself in line around Brenda. Listening as her son's feet retreated away from her door, Sharon wondered just how long it would be before she had to face Brenda – face what the impulsive woman had done.

…

Detective Lee Marshall had survived the bullet to his leg. He was now sifting through a bowl of hospital prepared green beans, looking rather pissed that he wasn't out on the field, catching bad guys.

"Listen, I sent in an affidavit to be reviewed by the DA's office. They had the paperwork; I just needed to get in to the documents before they could get the warrant. I _had_ this guy." He poked angrily at the unoffending vegetables.

"I'll need a copy of that affidavit, Detective," Sharon glanced up from her notepad upon which she was furiously scribbling notes.

"Ask my partner for it. He had a copy. I swear, Captain, that I almost had this guy." Lee looked up at the insufferable woman, having never come in to contact with her before today, but knowing that he never wanted to run in to her again. He felt bad for Chief Johnson; she practically had to put up with her on a daily basis.

"The fact of the matter is, Detective, that you _cannot_ present a false search warrant to a suspect. You have to get the DA's approval of the affidavit before you can proceed with any sort of search. When you failed to do that, the case turned ugly, didn't it?" Sharon slowly sneered, pushing her hair away from her eye. "It does not matter how close you are to catching an embezzler; you must follow procedure."

Lee didn't like that he was being scolded while his leg was still healing from having been shot. What right did this woman have coming in to his hospital room and asking him these questions, telling him what he should have done. For Christ's sake, he'd probably almost died.

"Capt'n, how nice to see you here." A strained Southern drawl surprised both the Captain and Detective. Two sets of eyes - one brown and one green - fell on the blonde Chief as she entered the room. "Is she givin' you too much trouble?" Brenda drawled as she walked closer to the bed, trying to ignore the brunette's presence all together.

"I'm getting a lesson on how to properly acquire a search warrant." Lee snarled, but gave the Chief a slight smile. "I'm sure you do it correctly every time."

"As a matter of fact, I do." Brenda gave him a wide toothy grin, her eyes betraying her resolve to not look at the Captain because brown fluttered to piercing green.

The brunette looked frozen to the spot, as if someone had slapped her. Brenda's heart fluttered before sinking to her stomach. This was uncomfortable.

"What are you doing _here_?" Sharon slowly inquired through a clenched jaw.

"I have questions, same as you, Capt'n." Brenda's smile turned in to that unreadable look she gave to suspects right before she laid in to them. "I need to get Detective Marshall's take of yesterday's events."

"Shall I leave you two alone then? I think I'm finished here." Sharon closed her notebook and let a terse smile grace both the Detective and the Chief before turning to make her exit.

"Wait, Capt'n." Brenda stopped her with that Southern twang.

Sharon only stopped mid-step, refusing to turn and face the blonde woman.

Realizing she wasn't going to receive the benefit of seeing Sharon's face, Brenda felt silly having stopped the woman at all. What was she going to say? They had kissed. Did they need to talk about it? Did they need to discuss it? Brenda was not a discusser, Brenda was not a confronter, but she wanted to talk to Sharon, she wanted to know that what she had done had been, at least, a little enjoyable and welcomed by the brunette.

The Captain turned on her heels, her eyebrow raised in anticipation of what the Chief had to say.

"Can I speak with you, about the…the…" Brenda glanced secretively to a wall displaying magazines, eyeing an ad for Mac cosmetics before blurting out, "Mack case?"

"The…Mack case?" Sharon spat back, her head tilting slightly, her eyes narrowing in Brenda's direction.

"Yes, the Mack case." Brenda nodded.

"I didn't think we had anything to discuss about the Mack case." Sharon quickly fired back, free hand shoved deeply in to her blazer pocket.

"Well, I'm thinkin' we do, would you mind…?" Brenda nodded towards the door to the room.

Sharon gave her a do-we-have-to-do-this-right-here – right-now look, to which Brenda held a firm gaze. Sharon finally adverted her eyes and dipped her head towards the door before turning to leave the room.

"'Scuse me Detective," Brenda called over her shoulder as she rushed out of the room to follow the brunette.

…

Sharon could feel Brenda's presence as she walked down the hospital hallway. She wasn't sure where they were going, but she knew they needed to stay in a public place. If they had an audience nothing could happen other than an argument between them.

Sharon hadn't expected to have this confrontation today, or to even see the Chief for that matter. She felt angry and upset because she didn't know what to say, though as she walked on, she realized it was the Chief who had the explaining to do, not her. She had not leaned in; she had not pressed her lips to Brenda's.

She felt a hand reach out and grab her arm, heat searing through her body upon contact. She felt her cheeks flush, she couldn't turn around now.

"Capt'n, where are you goin'?" Brenda's voice was irritatingly even.

Sharon stopped dead in her tracks causing the blonde to run in to her. She could feel every inch of Brenda's body uncomfortably pressed up against her back. She stepped away, detaching herself from the contact.

She found that they were in a wide hallway, windows lining one wall and a waiting room and reception area on the other. Sharon leaned up against a window and glanced over Brenda's shoulder at the waiting room. Only a few patrons littered the seats and they looked less than interested in the brunette and the blonde.

Sharon's vision caught chocolate eyes devouring her whole. Brenda's tongue flicked out to run slowly, painfully across her lower lip.

Sharon felt her pulse quicken, but knew she had to keep a firm resolve. "I could file a complaint against you." Sharon's voice was even, cold.

Brenda's brow creased in confusion. She had not been expecting this response. "Would you really do that?" Her voice sounded panicked suddenly, her firm, sexual approach dissolving before Sharon's eyes.

Sharon took a deep breath and pocketed her free hand, burying it deeply as her hand clenched in to a fist.

Realizing that the woman was spewing off empty threats to keep her distance, the look of predation returned to Brenda's visage. _Oh Lord_, Sharon inwardly grimaced.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Brenda mimicked Sharon's position by shoving her own free hand unconsciously in to her cardigan pocket.

Sharon's eyebrow rose. "About…?"

Brenda dawned that indignant annoyed look, a patent look she adorned when a suspect didn't respond the way she wanted him to. Sharon did not like it directed at her, but there was something comforting in the fact that she was annoying Brenda.

"Where?" Brenda knew Sharon was playing dumb, knew she was making her work for the information.

Sharon scratched her forehead, wishing she could make an escape at just that moment. She was glad Brenda couldn't see the sweat pooling in every crevice of her body. "I don't really think that's any of your business, Chief. It was not my place to say anything. Now, if you wouldn't mind…" Sharon pushed herself off the glass wall behind her and made a move to leave, but Brenda's hand firmly caught her.

"Sharon," Brenda's face was impossibly too close to her own. She could make out the faint hint of…French vanilla coffee on the blonde's breath. "Please, don't act like this didn't happen." Brenda's voice was so raw in that moment it made Sharon's resolve break, if only for a moment.

She needed her bitchy façade, she needed the office Captain Raydor to guide her safely out of this situation, but somehow she couldn't call her up as easily as she had thought she would be able to. Where were these feelings coming from? Sharon had _never_ had feelings for a woman in her entire life. She had not experimented in college, she had never had a woman catch her eye, pique her interest. So why now, when she was almost sixty years old and probably dying from breast cancer, was she having these…feelings for her superior officer?

Sharon moved out of Brenda's grasp and leaned back against the glass. She couldn't run from this.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Brenda demanded again, her voice firm this time exactly as it would be if she was dealing with a suspect.

Sharon's jaw clenched shut. "Why did you kiss me?" The words left her mouth tightly.

Brenda kept her gaze firmly on Sharon's, but Sharon could see rosy red rise from the Chief's neck to her cheeks. "I just…I've wanted to…I've been thinkin'…and you just…" Brenda was a babbling idiot. Sharon sighed.

"Don't do it again." Sharon snapped, knowing that it was best that they leave this conversation here.

Brenda put her hand to her mouth, looking almost as if she'd been struck. She obviously had expected something else from Sharon, but right now Sharon could not deal with the emotions surging through her body, especially standing this close to the blonde. She needed space, she needed distance and the only way she knew how to accomplish this was by pushing her away.

Sharon moved to leave again, but this time Brenda did not stop her. Green eyes gazed at the blonde, taking in her defeated posture, blonde hair falling around a downtrodden face. She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but Sharon leaned in, her lips close to the blonde's ear and whispered, "breast cancer."

Brenda's head snapped up and they found themselves inches apart again. Sharon had to stop finding herself in this position.

Without thinking, without even considering what she was doing, Sharon leaned in and pressed her lips lightly to Brenda's cheek. Her eyes widened as she straightened, fear fluttering across her face. Quickly she turned on her heels and walked away.

Her ears were deaf to Brenda's pleas for her to stop.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Well now the Captain was just playing with her, Brenda realized as she sat in her car in the parking lot of the LAPD, taking a drag on her cigarette. She had not bought a pack of cigarettes for herself in over fifteen years, but something about the Captain and her divorce had driven her to smoking again.

_That woman_ drove her insane. How dare she threaten to file a sexual harassment complaint against her for kissing her and then end the conversation with her own returned kiss? It wasn't fair.

Brenda leaned her head back against the headrest of her car and exhaled a stream of smoke.

"Chief?"

The voice caused her to jump, nearly dropping the damn cigarette on to her lap. She turned to find the white hair of her beloved Provenza; he was standing right next to her car.

"Detective, what're you doin' here?" Brenda awkwardly searched for a way to hide the evidence of her smoking, but she quickly realized her only option was to put out her cigarette outside her car, exactly where Provenza was standing. And she immediately realized that one could not really hide a cigarette.

"Just got back from interviewing the wife on the Grant case." He calmly took the cigarette from the blonde, who looked awkward with the offending object held between her thumb and pointer finger. "Finished with this?"

Brenda followed it with her eyes and nodded, "sure."

Provenza took a puff before butting it on the ground. "Smoking will kill ya, young lady." He opened the car door for her and Brenda reached for her big bag.

"Think it'll do it quickly?" Brenda unbuckled her seatbelt and allowed Provenza to help her out of the car.

"Well now that's not the Chief I know. What's gotten in to you?" He calmly shut the door behind her and looped her arm through his own as they walked to the parking garage elevator.

"Oh, nothin' Louie, just some personal stuff." She sighed.

"Agent Howard took the position?" They had reached the elevator and Provenza pressed the up button.

Brenda turned, awe-struck that everyone always seemed to know everything almost before she did. Was she really that oblivious?

"As a matter of fact he did," Brenda nodded.

"It'll be good for him," Provenza calmly assured her as they stepped on to the open elevator.

"Yes," _but what about me?_ Brenda wanted to scream. Her life was in shambles and she just kept digging herself deeper and deeper in to a pile of shit.

Sharon Raydor had cancer. Sharon Raydor had kissed her on the check. In a hospital.

These thoughts came to her at the most random times.

It had been nearly a week since their run in at the hospital and since then Brenda had a made it a point to avoid the woman at all costs. They went about their daily routine of having rough confrontations – made rougher by unsaid words spoken between them – and verbally assaulting one another. Their professional life seemed to have hardly changed…yet it had.

Each time Raydor stepped in to the murder room Brenda had the most unnatural thoughts race through her mind. If Sharon was wearing one of her impossibly tight, perfectly fitting pencil skirts, Brenda's eyes would linger on her lower half a moment too long. If the brunette came in with a button down shirt on, Brenda's eyes would rest on the hint of cleavage, yearning to touch the breast that was hurting her Captain, the breast that was filled with cancer. She still didn't know any more than that it was breast cancer. She wasn't sure if the breast was already gone, or perhaps if they were still intact, but she knew that she derived entirely too much pleasure and a sense of yearning sadness whenever her eyes hungrily devoured Sharon Raydor's chest.

Brenda Leigh Johnson had never taken a second glance at a woman before in her life. She was still uncertain as to what had driven her to kiss the woman in the first place, though she could not deny the feelings that coursed through her veins when she saw her. This was lust, this was longing; Brenda was smart enough to recognize that.

She needed to talk to the brunette again; she needed to see her, to truly know how the other woman felt.

"What are you busy thinking about?" Provenza caught her attention again and she immediately remembered where she was and whom she was with. His arm was still laced through her own. Her hand was shaking, her foot tapping impatiently.

"No one." Brenda stupidly uttered.

Provenza's eyebrow rose.

"Oh, no, for heaven's sake Louis, I didn't mean…I just…there's so much on my mind right now." Brenda stepped away from him, detangling their bodies.

The old man just gave her a twinkling smile. She was relieved when the elevator door dinged open and they exited, Brenda excusing herself to go to the bathroom before she had to face her men. She needed to recoup, she needed to get herself together, erase all of these thoughts of Sharon Raydor so that she could do her job.

…

Sharon Raydor sat at her desk, head bent over paperwork. Her foot tapped lightly, causing her shoe to slip on and off. She had once heard that this behavior was a sign of sexual frustration, of an innate need to have sex. She wondered if it was true, or if she just enjoyed the feel of her shoe sliding on and off.

Though if she was completely honest with herself, sexual thoughts had not been far from her mind these past few days. Sitting through another boring chemotherapy treatment in the infusion room the previous evening, she'd occupied her time with thoughts of Brenda Leigh Johnson and her lips. God, she really wished her brain would not focus obsessively on those lips which she had now…well she would hardly say she'd kissed them. Pecked was a better word.

She felt like a giddy high school girl again and it was completely unacceptable. Sharon Raydor was fifty-nine years old. There was no longer room for stupid, dead-end, heart-breaking crushes. Sharon did not like women and she especially did not like her married co-worker whom made her blood boil and anger rage through her body every time _she_ was near.

She needed to get her head on her shoulders. She needed to call her children, her parents and tell them that she had breast cancer, that she was receiving treatment. This crush was a mere distraction from the real issue at hand.

"Capt'n."

Oh Lord, she couldn't get rid of this woman. Sharon pulled off her glasses and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she looked up at the very woman who seemed ever present in her mind. She hated that she could just appear like this and cause all of these…feelings.

Sharon's stomach was tingling. She was too old for this. "Chief Johnson," her eyes flashed in the blonde's direction, giving her a tight, measured smile. She immediately looked back down at her paperwork when she realized the Chief was blushing. She was blushing in her presence. It was practically the equivalent of a man getting a boner – something Sharon had oddly encountered often enough in her life. She knew she had some sort of sexual prowess, but she had never known her powers extended to women…to Brenda.

"I just needed to…do you mind?" Brenda paused, her hands on the office door, waiting for instructions to close it.

"Chief, if you are here for personal matters, then I would suggest we discuss them out of the office, not here." Sharon's voice was low, knowing the exact reason why Brenda was in her office, and also that she could not face this right now. If Brenda closed that door right now, she wasn't sure what would happen. If their interaction ended in any way like it had the other day, Sharon might find herself kissing Brenda again and there would be none of that. Not today.

Sharon needed to grow up and move on. This childish infatuation needed to end because Brenda was her colleague, her superior, a woman she needed to work with, not someone to get involved with. She was so childish. It would never work.

Brenda looked rather disheartened by Sharon's response and instead stepped forward without closing the door. "All right, can I see you outside of work then?"

Sharon cocked her head to the side, a confused smile tugging at the edge of her lips. "Brenda, I really don't think that is a good idea."

"Why not?" Brenda looked like she was about to stomp her foot on the ground in frustration.

Sharon practically laughed before looking back down at her file. "How's your husband?"

Brenda sighed indignantly and crossed her arms over her chest. "Soon to be ex-husband and he's in DC."

A spark raced down Sharon's back as she realized what Brenda had just said. _Oh God_, Sharon really hoped she had not brought about this demise in Brenda's relationship. She refused to be the reason anyone ended a relationship. She really wasn't worth it, really. "I see you made your decision." She, instead, responded, keeping her eyes trained on the file before her. Her voice was even, measured.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did." Brenda stepped a bit closer to Sharon's desk, placing her palms on the edge of the wood top. "Sharon, look at me."

But Sharon focused with even more intensity on the files. She did not need this annoying woman standing before her, demanding her to acknowledge her presence.

"Fine, all right," Brenda realized she was going to get nowhere with the brunette. She was so infuriating. Why had she had to fall for _her_?

"I will tell you something, Brenda Leigh," Sharon's voice was near anger as she spoke, but her anger was an even, deep, mesmerizing tone. "I am not someone you come running to after a divorce. I will not be a person who fills a void and I will not be used to fulfill some middle-aged desire to experiment with a woman." Green eyes flashed upwards, meeting timid browns.

Brenda swallowed, her eyes still intent, burning with the desire to snap back at Sharon. But before she could open her mouth someone cleared their throat behind her.

Sharon's eyes darted around the blonde, coming to find Boswell had entered and was staring in confusion at the proximity of his boss and the Chief.

"Is this a bad time?" He inquired, shuffling through his paperwork.

"No, Chief Johnson was just leaving." Sharon easily dismissed the blonde, hardly giving her a second glance as she took off her glasses and ran a hand through that perfect, long, soft hair.

Brenda looked like she was about to smack her, but instead of resorting to violence she pushed off the desk and turned, angrily stalking past the short, balding man who had rudely interrupted what was supposed to have been a conversation where she and Sharon came to some sort of agreement about what those kisses had meant. She quickly realized, as she went stalking down the hall, that both of those kisses had been mistakes.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sharon Raydor lit the cigarette and inhaled only to find that the smell of smoke was suddenly revolting. She choked on the taste, the smell. Everything about the cigarette was nauseating. She quickly butted it in her porch ashtray before leaning over the railing to vomit in to her poor helpless shrubs.

"Sharon?" Her son's concerned voice rang out from the front porch door. She vomited again in to the bush before righting herself and wiping at her chin. "What the hell are you doing?" He took the pack of cigarettes off the porch table and glared at Sharon.

She couldn't meet her son's eyes. She had no idea what she'd been thinking, but a cigarette had sounded, in theory, like a good idea. In reality it was a terrible decision. "I thought you were practicing." She weakly uttered.

"I will remind you that my bedroom is right up there," he pointed. "I can hardly keep from hearing you when you vomit over the edge of the porch. And what the hell is this?" He held up the pack of cigarettes. "Do you want to die that badly?"

She had never seen him like this, so worked up, so upset with her. "No, no…Luc," she wiped at her brow and frowned. "It's just…it's been a long week. All right?" She leaned back against the railing and put a hand to her forehead. "I couldn't do it anyway. I can't stand the smoke." She sighed.

"What is going on with you?" Lucas inquired, his voice no longer as angry as it had been.

"Oh, Luc, you have no idea." Sharon sighed. "I just feel so lost." To anyone else she would not break so easily, but in front of her son - the boy who knew her better than she knew herself at times - she could not keep things in. It was probably wrong for a mother to confide in a child, but right now he was all she had. She was all he had.

"Do you think you should go to that counselor they recommended?" He shyly suggested.

Sharon took a deep breath and bit her lip.

At that moment they both heard Sharon's cell phone ringing. "God damn it, that'd better not be work." She sighed to herself. Pushing off the railing, Sharon made her way back in to the house, Lucas hot on her heels. She rummaged through her purse, which she'd left sitting by the front door, and extracted her cell.

Katherine. Katherine was calling.

"Katie?" Sharon asked in to the phone, Lucas immediately pepping up by the fact that it was his sister.

"Mother, how are you?" She asked, her smooth-as-honey voice filling the line. If one was blindfolded, one might not be able to distinguish between the two women's voices.

The question was a simple one, yet Sharon found herself unable to respond. She chose to lie. "Good, fine…how are you? How are things? Nate?"

"He's good, we're fine, I'm fine…you'll never guess what I just found out today." She could hear the excitement in her daughter's voice. This was exciting news. "Is Lucas there? Put Lucas on the line."

"He's right here, hang on," Sharon held the phone away from her ear and squinted at it before hitting the button for speakerphone. "All right, we're listening." Her eyes met inquisitive green eyes that matched her own.

"Hey Luc," Katherine greeted her brother.

"Hi Katie." He responded, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation.

"Mom, Luc…we're pregnant!" She practically yelled through the speaker.

Sharon's hand shook. She almost dropped the phone. "Pregnant? Katie, honey, that's wonderful." A myriad of emotions splayed across Sharon's' features and Lucas saw each one. He knew she was happy…yet he also knew that she had not told Katherine about the cancer. Now was hardly the time.

"That's great sis," Lucas intoned, his eyes firmly on his mother's face.

He saw tears welling in the corner of her eyes. "It's great," Sharon made the words sound happy, but her lip was quivering.

"It is, mom! We're expecting in March." She pressed on, not picking up on the tears that were threatening to roll down her mother's face.

"That is just…wonderful, sweetheart. I'm so happy for you." Sharon formed the sentence without any hint of sadness. Lucas felt his heart quicken. He should be happy for his sister, but all he could focus on was the pain in his mother's eyes.

"Well, we just wanted to call and tell you. You're the first to know, just so you know." Katherine went on. Lucas was glad she wasn't there to see their mother's real reaction.

"Tha-Thank you for telling me." Sharon let a sad smile form on her lips; she hoped Katherine didn't hear the stutter in her voice as she spoke. "We'll have to make a visit out East to come see you, won't we, Luc?"

He nodded before realizing his sister wasn't in the room so quickly he added, "yes." Could they really make that trip with his mother in her current condition?

"Great, we'd love to have you both. I love you guys. We have to call dad and Nate's parents now. And Jonathan. If he'll answer." She laughed. She was so carefree. Lucas was envious.

"Yes, of course." Sharon nodded.

"Mom, I want to talk. Please call me when you're free." Katherine was so happy. Sharon wasn't sure she would be able to break the news now. _Christ_, her life was becoming more and more complicated. She could tell Brenda Leigh Johnson she had cancer but not her own children?

"Of course, I will. I love you, Katie."

"I love you too mom and Lucas!"

Once the conversation ended, Sharon wiped at her eyes, knowing this was unfair for Lucas, knowing that she should not let him see her like this. "I'm going to bed." She quietly whispered, trying to move past him.

But Lucas caught her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly in to his embrace.

"Please, Luc, let me go." She whispered, kissing the top of his head.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around her and watched as she made her way to the stairs. When she was up the stairs, Lucas went to the downstairs bathroom and - one by one - flushed his mother's remaining cigarettes down the toilet.

…

Brenda was restless. She tossed and turned in her empty bed. She bunched her fists in the sheets, angry with herself, with Sharon, with Fritz. She had no right to be mad at either of them; she'd dug her grave, she'd made her own decisions.

Had she ever stopped to reflect on her actions after kissing Sharon? Had she stopped to think that her actions could really, actually affect another person? Brenda was never one to consider what she did before she did it.

Sharon's harsh words from the previous day had left her feeling completely lost, stricken by the fact that she had not considered Sharon at all, had not even thought about the impact putting her lips to the older woman's would have on her, on them…if they were a them.

Realizing she was going to get no sleep that night, Brenda got out of bed and made her way to her bathroom. She needed something…some sort of solace that lying in bed alone could not offer her. She wanted to be near people, to forget Fritz…and Sharon.

Splashing water on to her face, she realized she had a little dress that she hadn't touched since buying it – on a whim – several months ago. It reminded her of…she stood up from the sink, realizing the reason she'd bought the dress in the first place. Its clean, dark lines reminded her of one green-eyed captain. She would have felt foolish if she'd worn it before, but tonight was a night to throw caution to the wind, to perhaps go out, get lost in a crowd and forget everything – her divorce and the fact that she'd kissed a co-worker, a female co-worker at that.

Brenda pulled the dress on and flipped her hair. She looked good; she looked ready to go out, to forget her cold, empty bed and her depressing love life. She had a terrible track record with relationships and people. Perhaps she could simplify everything and find a nice, single man to entertain her that evening. Single and simple. This was what Brenda Leigh needed.

…

Warm water surrounded her body, cradling her like an infant wrapped up in a watery shroud. She let her hand skim over the surface, watching in the candle lit room as bubbles caught in her fingers. Sharon Raydor loved to indulge in baths when the day was too awful, too hard to handle.

The hum of her vibrator was silenced by the cover of water. She had slightly lost interest in the object as it hummed between her easily parted lips; something was not allowing her the release she so desperately needed that evening.

Too many thoughts, too many concerns invaded her mind, clouding the concentration needed to reach orgasm.

She shut off the device and let herself fall back against the tub, her hair pooling around her in the water, her mouth submerged below the water line. She was exhausted, she had been sick that entire morning. She needed sleep, brief respite from the world if only for seven hours.

Her life was in shambles and she had no idea how she had lost control.

…

Brenda had forgotten all the etiquette and formalities of bar hook ups. So far three young men had bought her drinks. She'd accepted and allowed them to chat her up, but they had all drifted from her, off in to the crowd, leaving Brenda with a fascinating brown-eyed man sitting a seat away. He was older, but charming in that respect. His hair was peppered with gray strands and those deep, chocolate eyes exuded wisdom. He was so different from what Brenda was trying to forget and that drew her to him.

"Are you finished with that?" His voice was low, measured.

Brenda glanced down at her glass and realized it was empty. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Mind if I get you another?"

"Certainly, but you should tell me your name first." Brenda turned towards the man, watching his eyes take her in.

"Charles. And your name, kiddo?" He asked, waiving down the bartender with his hand.

…

She listened as the phone rang; blowing lightly on the steaming cup of coffee she'd made for herself. This was what she needed to do. This was what she should have done a long time ago, when she'd first found out.

"Hey," a sleepy voice answered and Sharon smiled in to her sip of coffee.

"Hey you," Sharon leaned back against the pillows in her bed. Watching as a work file slid from her lap and in to the empty space of bed beside her.

"Why are you calling this late, mom?" Her oldest son sounded exhausted, as exhausted as she felt.

"I just needed to talk to you. I have some…news." She carefully enunciated. "Though, probably not as good as Katie's news."

"Yeah, it's great. She's finally pregnant." Jonathan had heard from his sister, but he knew this was not why his mother had called. Her voice was resigned, depressed, distant sounding. "So, what is this about? Have you met someone new?" His voice was playful, trying to lighten the mood.

Sharon smiled, letting a slight hint of laughter fill the line. "Hardly, Jon, hardly." And that was the truth. She hardly considered kissing her superior, _female_ co-worker noteworthy for her children to hear about.

"Well, then what is so pressing that you actually called me?" The flick of a lighter sounded on the other end of the line and Sharon frowned.

"Are you smoking again, Jon?" She was glad that motherly concern could push off the inevitable conversation they were about to embark upon.

She could hear a stream of breath exhale past the mouthpiece of the phone before her son responded. "Yeah, it's a nasty habit. How did you break it?"

Sharon almost laughed again, "I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask about that."

Jonathan laughed, "are you smoking again?"

Sharon let out a sigh and shook her head, "no. Well, I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Why is that?"

"I have cancer," her voice was soft as she ran a hand down the front of her sweater, smoothing out the folds in the soft fabric. She adjusted her glasses on her face, waiting for her son's response. She could hear him breathing; hear him exhale smoke past the mouthpiece. She was envious. She wanted a cigarette to quell her nerves, to break the tension of this situation.

"Fuck, mom." He sighed. "Is it…bad?"

"Oh, Jonny, Christ. No, I think it's curable." Sharon's voice was soft as she played with the hem of her pajama shorts.

"Do you…do you want me there? Do you need me to help?" He offered.

Sharon took a deep breath, "no. Well not right away. Don't…please don't worry about me. I just wanted you to hear from me. I wanted to tell you. And I need you to check on Luc. He's…I feel like I'm a burden on him, and I thought you could…"

"Of course, mom. Don't worry about it." Jonathan knew what his family needed, and he knew he would spring in to big brother mode for his little brother. "I suppose you haven't told Katie."

"No," Sharon shook her head, wiping at her eyes under her glasses. "I could hardly follow 'congratulations on the baby' with 'I have cancer'."

Jonathan let a small, strangled laugh fill the line. "You're morbidly funny, mom."

"Thanks honey. Well, it's late. I hope I haven't spoiled your evening." Sharon let a small, sarcastic smile grace her features and she began to pile up her paperwork, ready to fall asleep though preferably not surrounded by folders and paper.

"Oh, no. I'm sure it was probably spoiled before my mother called to tell me she had cancer."

"Women problems?" Sharon distractedly inquired, her fingers coming in to contact with a piece of paper with Brenda Leigh's handwriting all over it. Could the woman possibly write more clearly? Her letters looped all over the place and it almost looked like a child had scribbled over the report.

"Something like that, but I won't bore you with the details. Get some rest, mom. I'll see about stopping in some time."

"Luc would like that," Sharon put her glasses back on, wondering if the report would make more sense with some magnification. It didn't.

"Tell me if you need anything else. Just call."

"I will, Jon."

"I love you, mom." It had been a long time since she'd heard her older son say that. Too bad it had come out of her telling him she had cancer.

"I love you, too. Goodnight." She let him return the sentiment before hanging up. She found her eyes trained on the way Brenda wrote _Captain Raydor_ with finesse, though all her other words seemed a jumble.

Sharon shoved the paper back in to its rightful folder and lay back in her bed. She had to stop thinking about _her_.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Brenda was slowly sobering up, the realization that she had just slept with a man in the women's bathroom of some seedy LA dive bar beginning to sink in. She leaned back against the toilet, realizing her underwear was still pooled around her ankles. This was a disgusting place to find herself half dressed. She needed to call a cab, she needed to get home, she needed to shower.

Charles had offered to help her, but Brenda had completely shut down. Frightened by what she had just done, she had asked him to leave. She waited behind in the bathroom, hoping that when she got the motivation to get up and remove herself from the bar that Charles would be gone.

Brenda Leigh Johnson made horrible decisions. She acted without thought, without thinking the whole situation through. It was exactly what made her so good at her job, yet exactly what yielded ramifications because it wasn't going by the book. Brenda never went by the book, unlike Sharon Raydor.

There she was again. Penetrating her thoughts.

She reached down and pulled her underwear off, tossing them away in the sanitary napkin trash box. She hadn't liked that underwear anyway.

She needed to get home. She needed to sleep this night away.

But how was she going to get home?

Right, a cab. She had a cab's phone number in her phone, didn't she? Fritz had programmed one in to her phone.

She reached in to her purse which had fallen to the floor. It took several minutes before she found the black object. Pulling it from her bag, she mindlessly scrolled through her list of contacts.

_Cab, cab, cab, cab_. She mindlessly chanted the word over and over.

She hit send upon reaching her desired contact. The phone rang; she pressed it lazily to her ear, her head coming to rest against cool metal.

…

The phone started to ring at exactly 1:36 AM.

She wanted to smash it, to throw it across the room so it would break in to a thousand little pieces so she could go back to sleep. The bile that rose to her throat, the foreshadowing of a headache made her want to stay in bed even stronger.

But if her phone was ringing at the time of night, it usually meant one thing and one thing only.

A case had come up.

"Fuck," she cursed, untangling her arms from their cocoon of blankets and sheets. Her hand reached out, fingers searching for the offending ringing object.

She didn't need her glasses to know it would be someone from the office, phoning her in. She touched the screen to answer and pressed the phone to her ear, "Captain Raydor."

"Raydor? Shit…oh…wait."

Sharon's body went in to overdrive, she was suddenly very awake. She could hear music, fumbling on the other end of the line and, "Chief Johnson?"

"Capt'n Raydor…I…I'm so sorry to, uh…good heavens," the blonde woman sounded inebriated, confused.

"Where are you, Chief Johnson?" Sharon sat up in her bed, reaching to her bedside table for her glasses – for she had never liked to be as blind as she truly was even if it was pitch black in her room.

"Not…It's not really important. Don't…um, I'm sorry."

"So you've said, Brenda Leigh, where are you?" Sharon turned on her bedside lamp, feeling the increasing need to vomit. Damn the chemo and this late night interruption. Though her body was humming with worry, the way she'd felt when she'd gotten a call early in the morning to come to the hospital because her poor little Jonathan had been in a car accident. This was the fear that shot through her veins.

"A bar, it's uh…um…Cosmos?" Brenda sounded embarrassed.

"I'm coming to get you. Stay right there." Sharon resolutely stated, tossing back the covers to get out of bed.

"No, Capt'n, Sharon, it's all right." Brenda's voice took on a fearful tone.

"Stay right there, I will be there in fifteen minutes. Do not leave." Sharon repeated as she hung up on the Chief. She quickly took to searching for a bra and some pants other than her sleeping shorts but she had to stop to catch her breath, allowing a moment of nausea to pass.

She had no idea why she was doing this for the blonde woman who was clearly acting and behaving recklessly. What did she care if the woman ended up drunk at a bar?

No, she needed to get to her; she needed to help this woman because if someone called Sharon in the middle of the night in dire need of help she would respond. She was not the heartless person Major Crimes made her out to be.

Sharon turned on to 1st St, realizing that she had taken much longer than fifteen minutes to arrive. She wondered if Brenda would have found a cab and left by now. Sharon really hoped her rescue efforts were not in vein, and as she pulled up to the bar she realized they had been warranted. The blonde Chief stood on the sidewalk, glancing from side-to-side while smoking a cigarette. Sharon had not pinned her for a smoker, but hardly anything surprised her about the Deputy Chief anymore.

Sharon pulled up to the curb and flicked on her flashers. If a cop decided to ticket her in the five seconds it took to walk up to Brenda, herd her in to her car, and leave she could always flash her badge and tell that cop to back off.

Checking to make sure no cars would take her out if she opened her car door; the brunette eased the door open and stepped out. Careful to avoid on-coming traffic, Sharon made it safely to the sidewalk and looked up to find Brenda Leigh staring curiously at her.

"Why are you here, Capt'n?" She asked through a stream of smoke.

"You called me, now if you wouldn't mind, my car is right there. Let me take you home." Sharon moved towards the blonde, taking the cigarette from her before the smell made her vomit – how she had practically lived off cigarettes for years suddenly baffled her. Butting the offending object on the ground she looked up in to angry brown eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" Brenda stumbled as she moved forward. She was a lot drunker than Sharon had originally anticipated.

"Taking you home," Sharon repeated, reaching out to take Brenda's elbow in an attempt to guide her to the car.

Brenda pulled back. "Don't touch me." _Oh Lord_, she was a belligerent drunk.

Sharon turned, stepping far too close to Brenda. "Listen to me; I am going to take you home. You called me in the middle of the night so I came to get you. I could be sleeping right now, but no, I came to get you. So stop fighting me, and get in to my car."

"I called a cab." Brenda stumbled away from Sharon, glancing down the road as if she might see the cab that Sharon was almost certain she had not called.

"Fine. I'll leave you here." Sharon turned on her heels. She didn't need to put up with this. She was sick, she needed sleep. It had been rude of Brenda to call her in the first place when she had no business contacting her unless there was a case. They were work colleagues. Nothing more.

"Wait," Brenda's arm caught Sharon's elbow before she could step off the sidewalk. Sharon turned just in time to steady the swaying blonde. "Since you're here."

"For fuck's sake." Sharon sighed under her breath and put her arm around the blonde's all too tiny waist and led her to the passenger car door. "You're so God damn stubborn," Sharon bristled as she helped Brenda in to the car. She slammed the door shut once the woman was inside and shot a prayer to the heavens that Brenda lived nearby.

When she got inside, the car had taken on the aroma of a stale bar. She wondered just how long Brenda Leigh had been out drinking and smoking. Sharon felt like she might be sick from the smell.

Before starting her car, Sharon turned to the blonde, her heart pounding at the very thought that Deputy Chief Johnson was in her car. Not her department car, but her car. Though Brenda Leigh was not focused on her. Brenda was fascinated by something happening outside the window.

"Where do you live?" Sharon eased the car on while keeping her eyes trained on the blurry visage of her superior officer.

Brenda sighed, worrying her lip with her teeth. It must be a habit, Sharon mused. "Do I hafta go home?" Her voice was low, almost silent.

Sharon took a deep breath and wrapped her newly manicured fingers around the steering wheel, tightly. "Brenda Leigh, where do you live?" Her voice was strained. She wanted to go home, she wanted to go to bed, she did not want to tend to this woman who had…kissed her. Jesus.

"Capt'n…" Brenda looked down at her lap.

Sharon weighed her options. They could sit here all night and Brenda could avoid the question, or Sharon could just shut up and take the woman home with her. As much as she did not want to do that because her son was at home, she found that Brenda was leaving her no other option.

"Fine. Fine," Sharon sighed, checking her rearview mirror before pulling out in to traffic.

…

The truth was that Brenda Leigh didn't want to go home alone to her apartment. She had been drunk, probably still was drunk, but she hadn't missed the contact titled 'Cab', she'd just scrolled past it to the next contact down…'Captain Raydor'. Oh for heaven's sake. Had she wanted to talk to the brunette that badly?

Now here she was, dressed in a pair of sweats the Captain had kindly offered her, laying atop a bed in the guest bedroom at the Raydor abode. It was a lovely house from what Brenda could discern from her ascent from the living room to the upstairs bedroom. It was as clean and orderly as Brenda had expected it to be.

Brenda found herself surrounded by plush, decorative pillows. The lamp light cast a golden glow over what appeared to be yellow walls, displaying meditative pictures of black and white seas, rocks, trees. The room was calming, warm, inviting.

A knock was heard at the door and before Brenda could open her mouth to welcome the brunette in, Sharon pushed it open and entered with a coffee cup in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "I brought you some tea and water." Sharon quietly spoke as she made her way to the side of the bed, setting both liquids on the bedside table. Her hair fell in to her eyes as she leaned forward and elegantly she pushed it back in to place with her middle finger, straightening up as she did so. "I also have Advil. Candy-coated. I figured you'd like it." She extracted the bottle from her big wooly cardigan pocket, a hint of laughter to match the sarcasm in her voice.

"Thank you," Brenda calmly sat up in the bed, and reached for the tea. "Oh, peppermint, just what I like, Capt'n."

Sharon gave her a bemused smile. "I need to get to sleep."

"Wait," Brenda's eyes got large, a childish pout playing on her lips.

"What, Chief?" Sharon sighed, turning back to face the blonde woman.

"I…" Brenda looked confused, as if she wasn't sure why she'd stopped the woman from going back to bed. She'd already caused the woman enough trouble. "I…wanted to thank you, Capt'n for…for…"

Sharon took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Brenda looked so lost, so confused. Most likely the way Sharon had looked after her own divorce. She reached out, her hands betraying her resolve to walk away as her fingers traced lightly down Brenda's cheek. "It's okay."

Brenda's brow furrowed as Sharon's fingers swept blonde hair out of her eyes. Why was Sharon touching her this way? Why was Sharon being…nice?

Brenda's fingers found their way to Sharon's knee, her index finger stroking back and forth across the fabric of her jeans. "Sharon?" Brenda's voice was distracted as she focused on her finger touching Sharon Raydor in a way that was neither sexual, nor completely platonic.

"Hmm?" Sharon let her hand trail down her cheek, removing it completely from her body so that she could cover Brenda's roaming hand with her own.

"Are you gonna die?"

Sharon bit her lip and shook her head. "Most likely no." She quietly responded.

Brenda let a small smile grace her features. "Good."

"I would've thought you'd be glad if I did." Sharon half jokingly quipped.

Brenda shook her head. "No, I would never be happy if you died. You can't die." She looked as if she might cry, though Sharon felt that was highly unwarranted. This woman had no reason to care, to even be concerned with whether she lived or died.

Her fingers moved upwards, touching Sharon's cheek before moving downwards to the woman's exposed neckline, her chest.

"Brenda," Sharon's voice came out breathy, heavy. Brenda was so focused on the older woman's breasts that she hardly noticed the warning tone in her voice. "Brenda, stop." Just as Brenda's hand slid down to her breast Sharon grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away.

"Are they still there?" Brenda knew this boldness was only acquired through the countless number of drinks she had just consumed.

Sharon should have known to extract herself from the room before she let things go this far, but she seemed incapable of doing the right thing when Brenda was near. Instead of getting defensive and leaving as she most likely should have, Sharon responded, "yes. For now. Now I really need to sleep. As do you."

Brenda just nodded and sipped the peppermint tea, noting that the brunette had mixed in some sugar and milk. "Thank you," she whispered as Sharon stood from the bed, wrapping her cardigan more tightly around herself.

"I just didn't want to wake up and hear that your body was discovered in a dumpster or some other atrocity," Sharon darkly quipped before heading towards the bedroom door. "Goodnight, Chief."

Brenda smiled at the Captain, searching for a way to call her back to the bed, to not have her leave her side, but as the door closed behind the brunette - leaving a trail of tantalizing perfume – Brenda realized she had no reason to be in this bed, in Sharon's house, taking up any of the sick woman's time. Perhaps calling Sharon had been a bad idea. She took another sip of the tea before falling down into the recesses of the soft sheets and down comforter.

Though she should feel embarrassed for intruding upon Captain Raydor's private life, she couldn't help but feel a wall of comfort come to meet her as the softness of the bed enveloped her body, dragging her in to a deep, warm sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

That morning Sharon Raydor's two well protected, very separate lives came crashing together.

Lucas was certain he heard his mother vomiting in the toilet outside his room. He had to wonder, though, why she had chosen his bathroom to puke in first thing in the morning instead of using her own. She had a very nice bathroom tucked away in her very nice little wing of their house. She hardly had reason to use his bathroom.

With piqued curiosity, Lucas opened his bedroom door and found, rather curiously, that the bathroom door wasn't even closed. Perhaps Sharon had gotten winded on her way to the stairs and, unable to make it to her own bathroom, had rushed in to his. _She'd been getting sick an awful lot lately_, Lucas mused as he walked towards the bathroom door.

He felt the need to comfort her if she was in pain, perhaps he could suggest she just stay home. Work was beginning to wear on her – though she'd never admit it.

But as Lucas peered in to the bathroom, he realized that the head slumped over the toilet was not his mother's. No, whoever this woman was had a full head of blonde hair and a frail frame. The only thing that belonged to his mother was the awful pair of sweats she only wore when she was in spring cleaning mode or at home sick. Lucas wondered if his mom was still home, if she knew about this…_woman _who was so rudely vomiting up her guts in his toilet.

The horrible sound of vomit ceased, and the blonde woman sat back from the toilet. Her eyes were closed, a pained expression was present on her brow, and she used the sleeve of his mother's sweater to wipe at her mouth. Who was this woman?

Her blurry brown eyes shot open, meeting Lucas' gaze and both boy and woman froze before the blonde let out a strangled yelp.

She crawled back on her hands towards the wall of the bathroom in some lame attempt to get away. "Who…who are you?" Her voice was filled with a Southern twang.

How in the world did his mother know a woman from the South?

"I'm Lucas. I live here. Who are you?" He boldly inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Lucas? I…I'm Brenda Leigh."

"Chief Johnson?" _This_ was the woman who drove his mother insane? Who made his mother rave for hours at night? But she was just a little Southern belle…

"Ye…yes." She was frowning up at him with fear. "How did you…"

"My mother talks about you a lot." He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering exactly why she was sitting in his bathroom at…7:30 in the morning.

"Mother?" Brenda's eyebrow rose.

"Yes…Sharon? Raydor?"

"I didn't…um…" Brenda Leigh reached for the wall, using it to steady herself as she climbed in to a standing position. Without looking in the toilet, she flushed its contents away and moved to the sink to wash off her dirty hands. "I'm really sorry," she said, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I should…I should be goin' now." She stepped towards Lucas, unable to meet his eyes as she did so, but before she could walk past him, she turned and caught his inquiring, curious gaze. "She talks about me a lot?"

Lucas frowned, confused by her sudden curiosity in his mother. "Sure…yeah, I mean…" should he say with distain? Or would that be rude? Besides, little Brenda Leigh looked rather intrigued by the fact that his mother had even mentioned her. Perhaps he wouldn't crush her hopes that Sharon spoke positively of her.

Brenda nodded, as if satisfied by his answer, and then moved past Lucas. "Sorry you had to see that." She added, heading in to the guest bedroom.

Lucas heard Brenda moving around in the room, knocking in to something and then cursing under her breath, before reappearing in the same sweats, but with a dress tossed over her arm and heels hanging off her fingers. Her mouth opened in a sideways smile. "Your mama just thinks of everything, doesn't she?" She held up a note she'd apparently discovered in the room.

Lucas shrugged, having no clue what was on the note or even why this woman was in his home at all.

"Well you have a good day, I'll be…uh, I'll be going now. Nice to meet ya." Brenda, seeming to realize that she was an intruder in this home, gave Lucas a quick, final smile before turning towards the stairs, digging though that hideous purse of hers as she did so in an apparent search of her phone.

What was Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson doing sleeping in the guest bedroom?

Lucas listened until he heard the click of the front door behind her before he went about his normal morning routine, making a note to ask his mother later that evening just what the Chief had been doing in their home.

…

Sharon Raydor chewed on the end of her pen, an oral fascination that had never quelled in her childhood. She stared at the reports, having chosen to come in to work early over waking up to deal with the certain blonde woman who had fallen asleep in her guest bedroom in a pair of her sweats after trying to grope her. Of course Sharon had other more relevant reasons to come in to work early. She had another chemotherapy session that afternoon – hopefully the last for awhile because she had an appointment with Gabrielle the following Monday to see if the mass had broken down enough to operate. She needed to get as much done as she possibly could now to avoid the heavy paperwork so she wouldn't have as much when she was vomiting from the treatment.

Not everything had to be about Brenda Leigh, did it? Sharon wickedly smiled to herself and attempted to focus on a lawsuit she'd been handed the moment she stepped in the door.

For as demanding as her job was, she took solace in her painstaking, often unappreciated work. She had always been a meticulous woman, driven, hard-working. Perhaps that was what made her so good at her work.

"Capt'n Raydor."

_Oh Lord_, she hadn't seen _her_ coming. She wasn't ready.

"Chief Johnson," Sharon didn't have to look up to feel the inquisitive, direct gaze of the blonde woman before her.

She heard her office door closing and her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her hand sweeping mindlessly through her hair as she did so. Why was Brenda barricading them in her office? She needed to do work, not have it out with the sobering Chief.

"You didn't tell me you had a son," Brenda's voice was low, a hint of embarrassment hidden in her tone.

Oh, so she'd met Lucas. Great. Just great. Sharon had been convinced the two would not run in to one another. She'd hoped that maybe with all the alcohol she'd consumed the previous evening; Brenda wouldn't be up until after her son went to school. Wishful thinking always got her in trouble.

"I didn't really think it was any of your business." Sharon shrugged, trying her hardest to focus on the paperwork and not the Chief.

"Well I might have actually…" Brenda stopped talking. Sharon, curious, looked up at her.

"You might have _what_, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon's eyes shot daggers in to the suddenly silent woman.

Brenda bit her lip and awkwardly glanced outside the office window.

"You might not have called me to come get you in the middle of the night, or insisted you come to my place if you'd known I had a son?" Sharon could read right through Brenda's façade of innocence. She knew exactly what the other woman was thinking.

…

"Now, I…" Brenda was lost for words. She realized that she'd given herself up. She realized that Sharon knew she'd only called her and not a cab, she knew she'd wanted to come home with her.

But Sharon had been so sweet to her, so kind. She'd made her hot tea and sat in the bed with her, touched her cheek and spoke kindly to her. She hadn't been mad the night before, but now her jaw was set in anger, as if she regretted the night before. Brenda didn't want her to regret it. Brenda didn't want her to be mad at her.

She wondered, briefly, if Sharon was aware that she had made a terrible decision and slept with some guy from the bar. She wondered if she'd sensed it, or if she would even care that Brenda had taken out her frustrations and sadness by fucking some guy in the girl's bathroom. She wondered if that would change things if Sharon knew…

…but what did Sharon care if Brenda had had sex with a guy, or with anyone for that matter?

Then why did Brenda feel so awful for doing it?

Brenda closed her eyes, realizing that nothing got past this woman. Sharon Raydor was a smart woman. Unable to see the Captain, Brenda spoke candidly. "Perhaps if you'd let me see you outside of work, I wouldn't have to resort to such desperate measures."

She heard Sharon sigh, her own eyes coming open to find a puzzled look on the brunette's face. "_Why_ would _you_ want to see me outside of work?" She sounded exhausted. And she had every right to be; Brenda had kept her up entirely too late.

_She didn't know_, Brenda had no idea why, but she couldn't shake this need to be with Sharon, to talk to her, to get to know her. The older woman had already let her in…to an extent. And like a bee drawn to honey, Brenda couldn't get enough of Sharon.

"Sharon, please…just…" there was a knock at Sharon's office door interrupting the blonde.

Sharon looked past Brenda and made eye contact with whoever was behind her, holding up a hand to signal the other person to wait just a moment.

"Can we continue this conversation later?" Sharon's green eyes turned to address Brenda. The blonde felt weak at the knees, as she always did when Sharon paid her attention.

"Are we going to continue this conversation, Capt'n?" Brenda met her eyes squarely.

Green eyes darted away from her, losing focus. She shuffled files on her desk and nodded. "Maybe, now please. I have an important meeting." She motioned for the other person to come in to the office.

"Chief Johnson, nice to see you down here. Again." Boswell. Damn it.

"Hello Detective." Brenda turned to cordially smile at the man. "I was just leavin'." She turned back to look at Sharon, "I hope you take my request in to consideration."

Sharon merely glanced up from her paperwork and gave Brenda a distracted nod before searching her desk for a pile of paperwork.

Brenda, realizing Sharon was done with her, made her way out of the office.

…

Sharon realized that she needed to take a completed report up to Major Crimes before she left. It was the last thing she wanted to do, especially if Brenda Leigh Johnson was going to be there. She'd had enough of her earlier that day.

But if she didn't get this report up to them before she left, it might never make its way to the department. After checking her hair in the mirror on her desk to make sure it still looked all right, Sharon stuffed the last of her work to take home in her bag and got up from her desk. She took a deep breath and shut off her lamp.

She would deliver the folder and then be on her way. No need to make small talk with Brenda.

"Have a good afternoon, Captain," Boswell called out to her as she passed.

Sharon smiled over at him, "you too, Detective."

She moved to the elevator bank, unaware of Boswell's lingering eye on her behind.

It took less than five minutes to get to Major Crimes' floor and only a minute more to walk in to the murder room. The gang was huddled around Tao's computer, and all seemed to sense that the Captain had entered. They gave her a questioning gaze, each in their own way. It was only Brenda Leigh who gave her a welcoming smile.

"Capt'n Raydor, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" She asked, moving away from the computer screen.

Oh God, why did she have to come towards her?

"I have a report, Chief." Sharon thrust the file in Brenda's direction and gave her a professional looking smile.

"Thank you, Capt'n. Did you consider…"

Sharon lowered her voice, "Brenda Leigh, can't you leave this well enough alone? I am on my way to…to a chemo session. I am busy, please. Don't do this now."

Brenda nearly stamped her foot in frustration. "When will be a good time, Sharon?"

It seemed that everyone in the murder room was paying attention now. Sharon glanced over Brenda's shoulder and shot the men of Major Crimes a nasty look. "Lower your voice, Chief. I have to go now."

She turned and left, walking away from the disappointed, frustrated look on Chief Johnson's face.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Sharon ran her tongue along her lips, the awful metal taste of chemotherapy filling her senses. She flipped the page of a report and felt her eyes crossing from exhaustion. No matter how hard she tried to keep up, she was falling behind. A light headache was crossing over her forehead and she paused to take off her glasses and rub her forehead.

Her phone began to ring and she reached in her pocket for the offending object. She didn't want to field another work phone call; she wanted to forget all about work.

But it wasn't work.

"Luc, honey, is everything all right?" She asked, holding the phone to her ear.

"I'm fine, just wondering when you were coming home." He sounded anxious.

Sharon glanced at her watch. "I have another two hours."

"Do you want me to make dinner?"

"You should make yourself dinner, darling, I probably won't be hungry." She sighed, swirling her tongue around in her metallic tasting mouth. The taste alone made food entirely undesirable to her.

"Shall I make room for one more?" He slyly inquired.

"What are you talking about?"

"Brenda Leigh Johnson. You know she's not so menacing in person. I don't know what you're complaining about. She's just a little Southern woman."

"Yeah, she might come off that way, but she certainly can pack a punch. Listen, Luc she called me in the middle of the night and I went to get her. I'm sorry you discovered her this morning."

"Yeah, she was puking her guts up in my bathroom."

Sharon bit back a smile at the image of Brenda Leigh Johnson vomiting in her son's bathroom. "I'm sorry, Luc."

"Are you laughing?"

"No." But she was. Until her eyes met prying brown eyes. "I have to go." She hung up the phone before her son could respond.

Brown eyes came closer, walking through the room of cancer patients receiving similar treatments. Sharon watched as the woman struggled to get a visitor's sticker on to her horrid purple 80s jacket over a brown skirt.

What in the world was she doing here now? As if she wanted to face her during _treatment_.

"What are you doing here?" Sharon measured each word as she spoke, her eyes unable to look away from the rapidly approaching woman.

"I thought you'd like some company. And look what I brought," she held up a bag of mints. "I salvaged all the mints I could find in my candy drawer for you. I read that eatin' mints erased some weird taste you get while receivin' chemo." Leave it to Brenda Leigh to bring candy with her. But she'd done her research. The Chief had been curious enough about her life to actually look in to her condition and find out what Sharon was going through.

Without waiting for an invitation to do so, the blonde woman plopped down in a vacant seat near the Captain and handed her the mints.

"How did you find me?" Sharon frowned at the blonde, shuffling her paperwork back into a folder before sliding it in to her bag. She wasn't going to get any work done now.

"Well, it took some diggin', but after I called around to several different hospitals, I finally found one that was treatin' a Sharon Raydor. Doesn't hurt that I work for the LAPD." Brenda added with a sly smile playing on her lips.

"I could write you up for abusing your privileges," Sharon immediately retorted, but then saw the excited, selfless smile of doing something good fade slightly from the Chief's face. "You…you called around?" Sharon took off her glasses and stared, blurrily, at the blonde woman. She could hardly believe the woman had gone through so much trouble all on account of her.

"I did," Brenda nodded before Sharon's nurse appeared at her side.

"Is everything going all right?" He asked, checking to make sure the medicine was dripping correctly.

"Yes, yes everything is just peachy." Sharon sarcastically quipped, placing her glasses back on before realizing the nurse was staring at Brenda. He'd come over here to be introduced to Brenda?

Sharon glanced at the blonde and found her eyes intently focused on her, but as soon as Sharon looked at her, Brenda looked at the nurse and gave him a quick, pleasant smile – as if wishing him away. Sharon frowned; couldn't Brenda see that this man was clearly checking her out?

"Who might this be?" The nurse, undeterred by the blonde's lack of enthusiasm towards him, asked.

"This is my work colleague, Chief Johnson." Sharon mindlessly waved in her direction, an unfamiliar feeling spreading through her body as she saw the way the nurse was practically falling over himself for her _colleague_. No, she knew this feeling. This feeling was the feeling she'd gotten when she'd found her ex staring at another woman. Why was she feeling this?

"I'm Michael, nice to meet you Chief Johnson. Do you have a first name?" He inquired, extending his hand to her.

"Brenda Leigh, but I do think I'm a bit old for you," she gave him a tight smile as she shook his hand once before dropping it.

Michael just laughed. "Fair enough. Would you like Sharon's Popsicle? I can't get her to eat one."

"Oh, I'd love one. Thanks." Brenda chose a Popsicle and then politely thanked the young man before turning to laugh. "Heaven's I'm twice his age."

"That'd make me three times his age." Sharon sarcastically quipped as she rubbed her forehead and watched Brenda opened the Popsicle and lick it. Grape. Brenda liked grape Popsicles. Lucas had always preferred orange.

Oh what did Sharon care if Brenda Leigh liked grape Popsicles?

"Why are you here?" Sharon demanded again, feeling her resolve to keep this woman away failing slowly.

"I already told you, Sharon. And maybe I wanted to see what it was like. Does that hurt?" Brenda pointed with her Popsicle towards Sharon's arm, watching with wide eyes as another spurt of liquid dripped down the tube and slid in to Sharon's body.

"No, not really." Sharon shrugged. Leaning back in the chair, she picked up the bag of mints and reached in for one. She hated Popsicles but she'd always enjoyed mints. "And this is just about as exciting as it gets."

"Well then I'm glad I came by." Brenda sucked on her damn Popsicle – looking far too much like a little child while doing so – and happily settled back in her chair.

"Yes, but you disrupted my paperwork." Sharon half-heartedly tried to push at Brenda, to make her feel bad, but the woman seemed able to see through it.

"You looked very intent on your work when I arrived." Brenda practically laughed. "Oh, come on Sharon. Can we please just talk, and not about work?"

Sharon ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "What would we talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your son? How old is he?" She turned to face Sharon and bit the top of the Popsicle completely off.

Taking a deep breath Sharon realized she could not run away from Brenda now. The woman had probably planned it this way. She'd catch Sharon at a time when she couldn't get away, and what better time than while receiving treatment. She should have never told her where she was going.

"Sixteen." Sharon slowly stated.

"Is he the only one?" Brenda licked the Popsicle, eyes completely intent on Sharon. Somehow the brunette found it endearing instead of annoying.

"I have two others. Katherine and Jonathan. Katie's twenty-six and married, and Jonathan's twenty-eight."

"That's a big age difference. Course my older brother and I are ten years apart too." Brenda smiled. "He lives in New York with his boyfriend. My parents don't know." She laughed, mostly to herself.

"How would they not know?" Sharon marveled.

"Let's just say Willie Ray and Clay live by the 'don't ask don't tell' rule. It's better that way." Brenda's smile showed a bit of sadness in it.

Sharon's brow furrowed as she considered what Brenda was saying. She was certainly glad that she was open minded enough to accept her own son's homosexuality. She could not understand parents who didn't accept it. Of course Paul, her ex, wouldn't be open to his son's sexuality now. Perhaps back in the day, back when she'd first met him, but not now. Not with a candidacy hanging over his head.

"What're you thinkin' about?" Brenda licked the Popsicle stick, already finished with her Popsicle.

"Nothing, I just…I don't understand parents who can't accept their own children. No offense to Willie Ray and Clay. To each their own, I suppose." Sharon bit in to the mint she was chewing on and settled back against the chair.

"Well, we are good Southern Baptists." Her tone held a hint of sarcasm towards what could only have been a childhood of feigning interest every Sunday morning. "Homosexuality isn't exactly a debatable topic in Georgia." Brenda eyed the nurse who was on rounds again with Popsicles.

"Must keep one on the straight and narrow path then." Sharon quipped, flagging over her nurse. Michael appeared at her side again, his eyes still on Brenda. She really wished he wouldn't look at her that way. "Would you mind if she had another Popsicle?"

"Of course not, what flavor would you like?" Michael asked, moving to Brenda's side.

"I think I'd like a cherry one, please." Brenda grinned as the nurse handed her one. She happily opened it and Michael stayed focused intently on her a moment too long.

Sharon opened another mint in order to keep her hands busy, not sure why she was so annoyed by Michael.

"Thank you," Brenda grinned over at Sharon, her mouth purple from her previous Popsicle. Sharon couldn't help but laugh at the woman. She reached out to catch a drip of the rapidly melting cherry Popsicle before it landed on Brenda's jacket. Brenda continued to smile at her.

"I don't know how Agent Howard handled you," Sharon let a slight smile grace her lips.

But Brenda's smile began to fade. Oh, too soon to mention him.

"You miss him?" Sharon sat back in her seat and put the mint she'd opened in her mouth, sucking on the object furiously.

Brenda took her time licking that damn Popsicle before responding. "I think I miss the thought of him."

Sharon nodded; not the response she had been expecting.

"Have you…did you…" Brenda didn't know how to ask Sharon about her own relationship.

Sharon shifted awkwardly in her seat, a sad smile on her lips. "Divorced. For…oh God, five years now?"

"I'm sorry 'bout that." Brenda did sound sorry. "If it makes you feel better, I'm on my second marriage. Well off the second one now."

"Really?" Sharon turned to look at Brenda, feigning surprise. She'd read Brenda's files. She knew probably more about the woman than the woman even knew about herself.

"Yeah, suffice it to say my Mama and Daddy weren't too thrilled when I brought Fritz home." She pulled off the last of her Popsicle and wrapped the stick in the wrapper before tossing it in a nearby trashcan.

…

Another grape Popsicle for Brenda Leigh later and Michael was pulling the needle out of Sharon's arm and telling her to relax for a moment before she headed out.

Brenda realized that her time with Sharon was almost up. She'd actually enjoyed this little getting-to-know-you moment and she was glad she'd decided to stop by after work. She'd known that Sharon couldn't get away from her if she was attached to a machine for nearly five hours.

Though she wondered just what she'd accomplished by stopping by. Sharon had opened up to her, but it all felt rather…stiff. As if they were friends, but what did she expect? She had kissed her, yes. She supposed she had secretly hoped that would open up other possibilities but it appeared to have complicated matters further. Sharon hardly showed any interest in her…but was that what she was searching for? Did she want Sharon to be…attracted to her?

She glanced over at Sharon, watching as the woman rolled down her sleeve and leaned back against the chair. Her eyes were closed, her glasses still atop the bridge of her nose, her hair falling perfectly around her face. She was a beautiful woman. She was so poised and elegant, quiet, yet fearless. Brenda was drawn to her.

She reached out and let her finger trail lightly over Sharon's forehead to push a stray strand of hair away. Sharon's eyes flashed open, fear floating in emerald eyes.

"What are you doing?" Sharon's low, smooth voice demanded.

"Moving your hair…out of…" Brenda's eyes flashed to the brunette's chapped looking lips. Glancing up again she realized Sharon's eyes had followed her own eye's path.

"Not here." Sharon whispered.

Brenda's heart skipped a beat. She sat back, but kept her eyes intently focused on Sharon. "Will you have dinner with me?"

"Right now?" Sharon looked angry at the suggestion.

"No, not right now…just…sometime." Brenda settled back even further, frightened by Sharon's reaction.

"I tried to ask you to a 'business lunch' several times, if I remember correctly, and _now_ you want to go to dinner with me?" Sharon's voice was low, but fierce.

"I…I'm really sorry 'bout before, but I…"

"What's changed?" Sharon hissed.

Brenda bit her lip, frightened by this sudden change of behavior in her Captain. Oh…it was _her_ Captain now? Hardly.

Finding her footing again, Brenda snapped back. "If I remember correctly I kissed you, Capt'n. I think that changes things."

"You kissed me," Sharon looked around and readjusted her volume to an even lower level, "you kissed me one time. After I told you I had cancer, by the way, which was completely unwarranted."

"You…you kissed me….on the cheek, but you kissed me back." Brenda cried, but then quickly looked around, hoping they were not getting too many looks from the nearby patients.

"I will _not_ do this here." Sharon insisted.

"Well then when can we do this?" Brenda was quickly wondering why she was even pursuing this. It was clear that Sharon wanted nothing to do with her.

Sharon sat back, silent.

Brenda leaned back in her own chair but kept her eyes trained on the beautiful, albeit stubborn woman beside her.

"You have horrible timing, Brenda Leigh." Sharon whispered after what felt like an eternity.

"That's what my Mama always said." Brenda half smiled, wondering if this meant she was getting somewhere with the woman.

"You're free to go, if you're ready, Sharon," Michael stopped by to inform her.

"Thank you," she smiled tersely at him, not missing his glance in Brenda's direction. She leaned down slowly, making sure she felt all right before reaching for her bag.

"Lemme get that," Brenda insisted, having hopped up quickly to help.

"I can manage." Sharon insisted.

"No, let me." Brenda turned her shoulder with the bag on it away from Sharon and reached out to help Sharon up.

Sharon took the pro-offered hand reluctantly and allowed Brenda to pull her up. "I've done this at least ten times before this; I managed on my own then and I can manage on my own now." She persisted.

"But I want to help you," Brenda quieted the woman.

Sharon waved at the receptionist as they walked past her and headed straight ahead towards the parking garage. She needed to get home; she needed to see her son, to return to some sort of normalcy. Brenda Leigh had a habit of disrupting her life.

As Sharon pushed in to the stairwell of the parking garage Brenda's hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her back, crushing her body to the cold, dirty cement wall. "Sharon, please don't keep runnin' away from me."

"What do you want?" Sharon asked, her breathing labored from being caught off guard, pressed up against the wall, Brenda's lips so close to her own.

"I want…Christ, Sharon…" Brenda bit her lip, tempted to lean in and close the gap between them. But she needed to know that Sharon wanted this just as badly as she did. She seemed to get hints occasionally, as faint as they might be, but there were hints of Sharon's feelings for her. She knew the woman wasn't completely unaffected by this.

Instead of responding, however, the Captain leaned forward and pressed her chapped, mint and metal tasting lips to Brenda's. This was not the chaste kiss of before. This was something more. Sharon's lips were rough against Brenda's smooth lips. She used her teeth to bite tenderly at Brenda; her tongue wondering between Brenda's parted, panting smile.

"Is that what you want?" Sharon pulled back enough to ask.

"Yes." Brenda nodded.

"Well, I will tell you I am not in the habit of kissing women."

"Me neither." Brenda quickly nodded. "I don't even…I can't even…I just…I want to," Brenda pressed her lips to Sharon's once more.

Sharon took a deep breath and tangled her hand in Brenda's hair. "I meant what I said. I will not be a rebound for your marriage and I will not be your experiment."

"I don't want you to be." Brenda's breath was labored; adrenaline rushing through her system by this contact, this closeness Sharon was allowing her.

Sharon leaned in for one last kiss. "I have to go home."

Brenda kissed her again and stepped away, wondering just what Sharon was planning on doing now that she knew of Brenda's intentions, of what she wanted.

Sharon took her bag and purse from Brenda and then looked in to the younger woman's eyes. "I'll call you. About dinner." And with that she walked out to the garage, leaving Brenda Leigh in a state of shock and surprise.

_That woman_ had better call.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It took every last inch of Brenda's strength to not go running down to FID's floor, to race in to the Captain's office and demand to know why she hadn't called. They hadn't had any shared cases, not for weeks it seemed. They had no reason to communicate, so Brenda couldn't very well make up an excuse to see her now.

She needed to stay focused on her work, on her job, not the off chance that the Captain would call her.

She would call, wouldn't she?

…

"What are you afraid of?"

Sharon took a deep breath and sipped her coffee. She had never been good in these sorts of situations, but with a little encouragement from her son she'd made a therapy appointment. The woman seated across from her was a lovely middle-aged woman, much like herself. She watched as the woman leaned forward to scratch at her bare ankle. Her blonde hair fell in her face and for a moment Sharon thought about the Deputy Chief. The woman she had _kissed_ the previous evening.

No, this was not the time to think about _her_.

What was she afraid of? She supposed that this, if any place, was where she could be open, candid.

She took a jagged breath and tilted her head to the side, "I'm afraid…I won't see my son graduate high school. I'm afraid I won't get to meet my first grandchild – my daughter's pregnant, and I want to be happy, but I'm not. I'm afraid if I retire that I won't have anything to make me me anymore. I'm afraid I'm in love with my colleague." _Wait_…

The therapist frowned at the last one. "Do you want to talk about your colleague? Is there a reason you can't be with him?"

Sharon let a sarcastic smile tug at the edge of her lip. "_She_ is recently divorced and my superior. And a woman. I've never…I've never had feelings for a woman before."

The therapist nodded. "It's been known to happen. Nothing wrong with it."

Sharon now frowned, the therapist – was her name Nancy? Natalie? – found that liking a woman was normal? She supposed it was. She just hadn't suspected she would like a woman. Though she'd just admitted to loving the woman. Did she really love her?

This was exactly why Sharon hated therapists.

"Do you think that makes you a bad person?"

"No, I just…it surprised me. And she couldn't have worse timing." Sharon adjusted her glasses and stared anywhere but at the therapist.

"Because of the cancer?"

Sharon nodded. "Yes. I mean…if I lose this breast, which I very well might, how is that…she's not going to want some defective person."

"Having breast cancer is not the end of the line for anyone. Look at you, you're a beautiful woman and have so much to offer. If she returns your feelings, she's not going to care whether you have one breast or two."

Sharon shook her head. "I can't even believe we're talking about her."

The therapist smiled, "you seemed like you needed to. Now, would you like to discuss your other fears? You don't have a death sentence, Sharon. This cancer is curable and you have to believe it."

Sharon nodded, a tight lipped smile returning to her lips.

…

Brenda was about to give up all hope of the older woman calling. She stepped out of the interrogation room, fresh from a stiff debate with a suspect. She'd gotten a confession, but her victory felt hollow.

"Good job, Chief," Detective Gabriel nodded to her as he passed by.

"Thanks," she gave him a distant smile in return and headed out to the murder room. It was getting late, her case was closed. She should get out of her office, get some take-out and cuddle up on her couch. She needed to get used to living alone. She should be alone. She didn't need anyone, least of all Sharon Raydor.

Telling herself that she was only checking her cell phone in case one of her detectives needed to reach her, she unlocked the device and stared at its blank screen. No one. Not even her Mama had called to check in on her – not that she particularly wanted to speak with her, but she could've at least called.

Angry at no one in particular, Brenda tossed the phone back in to her big black bag and called it a day. She'd get Chinese and watch whatever was on that horrible Lifetime channel – she'd never admit to it, but she took guilty pleasure in watching the tired and cliché movies on that horrid channel.

Yes, that sounded like a fulfilling evening devoid of paperwork and Sharon Raydor.

And the Captain's lips.

Those lips, even chapped and metallically minty flavored, had felt amazing. She wanted Sharon to kiss her again and again.

No.

No, Brenda Leigh wanted Chinese and a night to herself.

…

Watching Lifetime alone was doing little for Brenda Leigh. She had convinced herself that she would enjoy this, but so far she was not. She was almost hoping for a murder investigation, itching for something to do other than wallowing in self pity.

She picked up the remote, bored with the current, predictable movie about a woman getting beaten by her husband, only to escape and then later kill him, and began to surf through channels. She passed by a bad infomercial – what time was it, anyway? – then a fishing show, followed by an even more boring news station, a trashy reality show. Nothing. Nothing was on television.

Then it started. She could hear the vibration before her phone began to ring. She scrambled around, searching in vain for the offending object. It had been sitting right there, right next to her and now it had fallen between the folds of her couch.

She fished it out just in time to answer, "hello?" Her voice was breathless.

"Chief Johnson, there's been a murder. And you're not going to like it."

_Good heavens_, not the person she wanted to talk to.

"Why's that, Lieutenant Flynn?" Brenda smirked as she grabbed a pen and paper off her coffee table. "Address?"

…

Sharon Raydor watched as the Chief stepped, unhappily, under the red tape surrounding the crime scene. She hadn't called her. _Shit_.

"Well hello Capt'n. Nice to see you here," Brenda pulled on a pair of gloves as she strode towards the older woman.

Great, her demeanor meant they were back to square one. She was angry with her and this time it had nothing to do with Sharon's penchant for order and decorum. "Chief Johnson."

Brenda glanced around quickly, noting the locations of her men, before leaning in to Sharon's side. "You never called."

Of course it would be the first thing out of Brenda's mouth. How would Sharon defend herself now? "I just came from my office. I've been swamped with work _all_ day; I was going to call until this investigation came up. And now you're here." Sharon whispered under her breath, her eyes trained on the notepad before her, furiously scribbling down everything that was happening at the scene.

"Chief Johnson, would you mind?" Detective Gabriel came up behind the two women, veering Brenda away from Sharon.

_Damn it_, the brunette thought as she glanced after the blonde. They couldn't very well talk at a crime scene.

"Captain Raydor, we need you," Boswell motioned for her to follow him.

It was nearly a half hour later when the Chief and Captain ran in to one another again, "you couldn't take five seconds out of your day to call?" They were bent over the tire of a crashed vehicle, searching for bullet holes that would indicate the cops shot at the tire. It was also a brief excuse to talk to one another.

"No, Brenda Leigh Johnson. I could not call. I told you, I was busy." Sharon whispered back, letting her hand feel the front of the tire.

"Yeah, well then don't kiss me and say you're going to call." Brenda huffed.

"Open your God damn eyes. I had an appointment today, I had paperwork, my son missed his ride home, I had to pick him up. I'm in no position to – "

"Chief Johnson, would you like to talk to the officer?" Provenza called from a distant spot.

Brenda Leigh, having colored from Sharon's motherly scolding, turned to get up, but Sharon caught her arm, pulling her back discreetly. "I would have called. I was just about to before I got this phone call."

Brenda yanked out of Sharon's grasp and used the car to stand up. She brushed off the street dirt from her trench coat and called out to Provenza, "I'm coming."

…

Of course she was being selfish.

"What happened tonight, Officer," it took Brenda several moments to make out his badge, "Harrison?"

She was always selfish. Sharon had a life; she had cancer; she had things going on.

"We happened upon this car which has plates that match a wanted gang vehicle. We decided to follow it and immediately called for backup, but before we could finish the call, the car started firing at us, so we fired back, aiming mostly for the tires to try and stop the car. It finally gave out, but without backup we were outnumbered and my partner was shot at."

Brenda worried her lips, glancing over the officer's shoulder, catching burning emerald eyes staring directly at her. The Captain was mindlessly standing, notepad poised in hand, watching Brenda. She looked upset, exhausted.

"All right, thank you Officer. I'm really sorry 'bout your partner." Brenda finished jotting down his story before ducking away from the upset officer. She turned to her team, "Let's get him medical attention and then we'll be back to interview him. How's his partner?" She asked Sanchez.

"He's in critical condition, but the doctors expect him to recover."

"And the boys in the wanted vehicle?" Brenda needed to get away from Sharon Raydor's prying eyes.

"Two were dead on arrival, and the other two are missing. Probably wounded. We've put out an alert at any local hospitals that they might go to for medical attention." Gabriel informed her.

"Good," Brenda turned to face her men. "I'm just going to check with Capt'n Raydor, but it seems like we have it all under control. I want any family, friends, acquaintances and names of these boys by the mornin', all right?"

The men nodded and then Brenda excused herself. She found the brunette talking with Boswell and waited patiently beside her until she was finished.

…

"And make sure that if the boy's families lodge any sort of complaint they come directly to me." Sharon could feel Brenda standing beside her. She had the strongest urge to put her arm around the other woman, to touch her. But she refrained.

Boswell acknowledged Brenda before responding, "I will, Captain."

"That's all for now," she curtly replied and then turned to face Brenda. "What?" her voice was decidedly softer.

"I'm sorry, Capt'n." Brenda was trying her hardest not to touch Sharon, to keep their normal, respective distance from one another.

"It's all right," Sharon, for as tired and fatigued as she was, gave Brenda a small smile. "About that dinner…I'm free Monday night. But I might be falling apart that evening."

Brenda frowned at her, "why, Capt'n?"

"Chief Johnson, would you mind…" Flynn was trying to pull her away.

Sharon didn't want her to be pulled away.

"Can you give me a moment Lieutenant," Brenda didn't take her eyes off the brunette. She knew it probably looked bad, but she could play it off as important police information. "What's happening Monday?"

Sharon glanced sideways to see if any of her colleagues were nearby. "I have an appointment to see if it's operable, I had a…a mammogram Wednesday." She had no idea why she was telling the Chief this very personal information.

Brenda nodded slowly in understanding. She reached out and touched Sharon's arm reassuringly, no longer caring what her division – or even Sharon's for that matter – thought of their stolen moment in the middle of the crime scene. "I'll be there no matter what the outcome." Brenda found herself saying, wondering just when and how Sharon Raydor had so fully captivated her that she'd brought out this caring, maternal side that Brenda Leigh didn't even know she possessed.

Sharon looked stunned for the moment, taken aback by Brenda's sincerity. "We should…get back to the matter at hand."

"Right," Brenda agreed, removing her hand from Sharon's arm.

Before they could part Sharon added, "thank you."

Brenda just nodded, a slight smile playing at her lips.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Luc," Sharon rolled to her left, staring at the bottom of her bathroom cabinet. There were hairs down there along with dirt and debris. She needed to clean better. How long had it been since she'd really cleaned her bathroom? "Lucas!" She called a little bit louder.

She finally heard his feet coming closer to her room. "Where are you?" His sleepy voice called out, having not found his mother in the bed where she should have been.

"Bathroom," she responded, feeling the sores in her mouth with her tongue. She hated chemotherapy. She hoped the previous week's session had been one of the last for awhile.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He had appeared in the doorway and was staring down at her.

Slowly, carefully, Sharon turned to look up at her son. She was still weak from throwing up that morning, but she was feeling slightly better. "I just ended up here and decided to stay. Do you know how dirty this floor is?" She reached out and grabbed a clump of hair. "Christ I hope I didn't lose all of this in one day."

"Do you need help?" Lucas sighed and took the hair from his mother's grasp. "And you have a lot of hair. I'm sure you've shed this over a long period of time. I'm really surprised you haven't lost more, but you do have good volume."

"Well," Sharon frowned up at her son, "thanks." She ran her hand through her hair distractedly, before breaking out of her hair trance. "Hey, Lucas, how about you skip school today."

It was Lucas' turn to frown down at his mother. "But, I have important classes today and the orchestra concert is in a week."

"Oh, come on. Your brother would've loved to skip school if I'd asked him to. Which I never did because he actually needed to go to school." Sharon pulled herself up on shaky arms to lean against the cabinet.

"Do you need me to stay home?" Lucas crossed his arms and stared down at his distracted mother.

"Oh…no. I just…" Sharon ran a hand through her hair again, knowing that it was messy from sleep. Playing with the end of a strand, looping it through her fingers over and over, she glanced away from Lucas. "I have that appointment today and I don't feel like going in to work."

Lucas could see the fear in his mother's eyes, as distracted as they appeared. "Well okay, I could skip school."

"Oh good. I can make you breakfast and we can talk."

"About…?"

"About…whatever we should talk about?" Sharon shrugged, picking at her sweater.

"All right. Deal."

…

Brenda stepped out of the investigation room, glad to wrap up another case. She felt good, she felt like she was on cloud nine. What she really wanted now was to see that gorgeous looking Captain. The one she was dining with tonight.

Why did she feel like a giddy high schooler again?

But of course she needed to keep things in perspective. She had no idea how Sharon's appointment would go, or even when it was. She should perhaps call her, check in.

Checking to make sure her department wasn't paying too much attention, Brenda picked up her phone and dialed the Captain's office number. The phone rang and rang but to no avail. The Captain wasn't picking up. She wasn't in her office.

Hanging up the phone Brenda tried a different tactic. She dialed the woman's cell number, waiting patiently as it rang.

Captain Raydor finally responded on the fifth ring. "Brenda Leigh, to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?"

"You sound chipper." Brenda quipped, settling down at her desk and pulling open her candy drawer.

"Hardly," Sharon laughed.

"When's your appointment?"

"Two." Sharon responded.

"Why aren't you in your office?" Brenda inquired, curious.

"I took the day off."

"You just up and took the day off?" Brenda grinned as she unwrapped a Twix.

"Yes, it has been known to happen occasionally."

"Well just a bit surprisin' comin' from you." Brenda bit in to the Twix.

"I'm just full of surprises." Sharon laughed.

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Brenda smiled, glancing up to see Commander Taylor walking towards her. She had to wrap up this conversation.

"Yes, well I want to get through this appointment and then I'll be able to look forward to tonight, whatever it is we're doing tonight."

"Having dinner, oh…good Lord, Commander Taylor's comin' my way. I'll see you this evenin'. I hope the appointment goes well."

"As do I. Good luck with Taylor." Sharon smirked.

…

The phone line went dead in her hands and suddenly Sharon felt the weight of her impending appointment lifting from her shoulders. She hated to admit it but talking to Brenda Leigh actually made her feel…better.

"Who was that?" Lucas held a cup of tea out for his mother.

"Chief Johnson," Sharon replied, staring directly at the television and the horrible movie they were watching.

"Why was she calling?" Lucas settled in to the couch beside her.

"Oh, just work…and we're meeting tonight." She hoped her cool, distracted demeanor masked the truth. But then what was the truth? A meeting that night was just what it was, nothing more, really. They were meeting for dinner.

"What kind of meeting? Business?" Lucas was staring at her. He could see through her.

"Something like that," she sipped her tea, hoping Lucas would drop it.

And in that moment he did. Both continued on watching the movie.

…

Sharon's hand was shaking as she received a bottle of water from Gabrielle.

Gabrielle, noticing how frightened the woman was, soothingly took Sharon's hand and sat down next to her instead of across from her.

"Just tell me." Sharon looked down at her wrinkled hand joined with the doctor's slender, elegant fingers. The doctor had so much life left in her, yet Sharon felt her own life slipping away. Who was she kidding, she was almost sixty.

"The cancer has responded well to the treatments. I think we can go ahead and operate," Gabrielle gave the sad, frightened woman a gentle smile.

"It…it did?" Sharon looked up at the woman. But of course, of course it would all be all right – God willing that the cancer never came back after this.

"Yes," Gabrielle smiled. "We can schedule the operation within the next week, if you'd like."

"I…I don't know…" Sharon couldn't believe this news. She knew the worst wasn't over, but this news was better than weeks and weeks of more chemotherapy with the lump still implanted in her breast. She wanted it gone. All gone.

"Now, I think the full mastectomy will be the best option for the left breast, are you considering reconstruction surgery?"

"I just want the cancer gone. Whatever it takes." Sharon gave Gabrielle a tight smile.

"I understand. We'll see what we can do. Now, you'll be in the hospital for up to three days and then you're really going to need someone to help you out."

"And not Lucas, I suppose." Sharon grinned.

"Right, while he's helpful, I don't think he's suitable for looking after you." Gabrielle returned the smile.

"I do have other children, who are much older." Sharon explained. "And I'm sure I could wrestle some poor soul in to helping me out."

"No, not poor soul. Anyone would be lucky to take care of you."

Sharon squeezed Gabrielle's hand. "Thank you."

"Now, I don't want you working for at least a month. If you need me to talk to anyone I will be more than happy to do so."

"A month?" Sharon stared at her incredulously.

"Yes, I want you to heal up and get better before we have to start the chemotherapy again."

Sharon nodded slowly, realization that perhaps her time as an LAPD captain might be coming towards a slow end.

…

In a state of undress, Sharon rummaged through her closet for her favorite pair of heels. A pair she'd splurged on one Christmas because she'd felt the need for Jimmy Choo's. Though she quickly realized Jimmy Choo's were not suitable for everyday wear, but a dinner….a dinner was something different. Sharon refused to view this as a date.

But then why was she dressing up?

"Mom, what are you doing?" Lucas appeared in her closet door.

"Getting ready." Sharon found the other shoe hidden back behind her suit jackets and stood up.

"For your meeting…?" Lucas frowned as his mother brushed past him to settle in at her vanity. She reached for her eyeliner, her hand shaking a bit too much as she did so.

Lucas, figuring he could help, moved to his mother and took the eyeliner from her, settling down on the vanity in front of her. He cupped her chin and she closed her eyes compliantly.

"Yes, my meeting," Sharon responded quietly.

"This looks more like a date," he noted, finishing the last of the line and checking to make sure both eyes were even.

Sharon pinned him with a look before reaching around him to pick up her mascara wand.

"Are you dating Brenda Leigh Johnson?"

Sharon stopped mid opening of the mascara and looked up at her son, "what? No."

"Then what's with all of this?" He took the mascara from his mother and easily applied it between the lashes. Once he was finished he took in the sight of his mother. She was stunning, even sans shirt. She had on a bra and a skirt, but no shirt yet. His eyes moved briefly to her left breast, wondering if he could see the lump. But alas it looked just as plain as it always had when he'd seen his mother walking around in a bra.

"Just…looking nice. I can look nice." She responded defensively.

"You haven't look this nice, no offense, since you were dating that guy…what was his name?"

"David," Sharon flatly offered.

"Right, David. I never liked him," Lucas shook his head and picked up a bottle of his mother's nail polish. A rich, deep green. He liked this color.

"He was nice."

"He was no good for you."

"And you think Chief Johnson is?" Sharon eyed him as she smacked her lips together, a fresh coat of lipstick applied.

Lucas slid the nail polish over his fingernail.

"What are you doing?" Sharon snapped, watching as her son started painting his nails.

"Painting. What are you doing with Brenda Leigh?" He mockingly said her name.

"Meeting her." Sharon insisted, but then caught the disbelief in her son's eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing, all right. I don't know. We're meeting. For dinner."

"Wonderful," Lucas slowly and smartly retorted before going back to finishing his nails, knowing full well that the boys at his school probably ridicule him more with his nails painted, but he was mesmerized by the green. "You like her."

"What? No, I don't know." Sharon never stumbled like this and her son knew it.

"You're blushing, Sharon."

"You're painting your nails, Lucas." She eyed him curiously.

"Yeah so." He shrugged, blowing on the newly painted nails. "I'm not the one with a crush on my superior officer."

"I'd hardly say it was a crush." Sharon uttered under her breath as she fixed her mascara.

"So you admit to liking her."

Sharon capped the mascara again and stood up. "I will admit to nothing. I don't know what this is." She breezed past him and in to her closet. "Help me find a shirt." She called back.

"So we're admitting this is a date."

"A dinner. It's a dinner." Sharon calmly responded, as if she were at a crime scene with a warrant calling for the search of a very specific item. There was no need to call it a date. Just because they kissed in the stairwell of a parking garage and once in Brenda Leigh's office did not make this a date…this was an attempt to figure out what it was they were doing. Nothing more than that. No need to get her nearly sixty year old hopes up.

"Fine, I like the pink one." Lucas appeared behind her with an elegant pink top she'd only worn once before.

"Fine." She grabbed it and moved past her son.

"Date."

"Dinner."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

They'd agreed to meet at Café La Boheme – an apparent dream of Brenda's to eat there despite its pricey price tag. Certainly the ambiance of the space gave way to a date like situation, but neither woman would readily admit to it. Brenda Leigh had left Sharon waiting for nearly twenty minutes in the lobby – unsurprisingly – and in that time Sharon had had a cocktail. When Brenda finally arrived Sharon felt light headed and had to admit to herself that Brenda looked stunning in that simple cupped sleeve red dress. Sharon's eyes shamelessly raked over her body as the blonde asked the hostess if a table was available yet.

The dress hugged her curves perfectly and her hair fell easily over her shoulders. Sharon wondered why she was just now taking note of these aspects of Brenda Leigh.

The blonde turned to face Sharon, chocolate eyes melting in to emerald. "Sorry to keep you waitin', Capt'n. I got out of there as fast as I could." Without asking she took Sharon's nearly finished cocktail from her hand and sipped it. "Should you be drinkin'?" She asked after enjoying a sip of the drink.

"I can…a little," Sharon felt mesmerized by the blonde, by her cool, calm demeanor. Sharon felt nervous, unsettled. God…what if this was a date?

"Sharon, we have a table ready." The hostess cut in to their conversation, nodding for the two women to follow her.

They moved towards a stairwell and found themselves being led to the second tier of the restaurant. They were seated at a secluded table overlooking the rest of the patrons, but it felt like they were all alone.

"Here are your menus and a waiter will be with you in just a second."

"Thank you," Sharon smiled briefly up at the hostess as she received her menu, though it was not the menu she focused on. Brenda leaned over to rummage through her purse, her eyes meeting Sharon's.

"How did your appointment go?" Brenda asked, finding her glasses.

"It was good. I can have the mastectomy." Sharon opened the menu, adjusting her own glasses over her eyes. They were quite a pair with their glasses.

"Mastectomy? They're taking the whole breast?" Brenda leaned in closer, her menu forgotten.

Sharon nodded, gauging her reaction quietly over her glasses. The blonde woman seemed nonplussed by her positive confirmation.

"Well I hope that takes care of it and it doesn't come back." Brenda tilted her head and smiled at the brunette.

Sharon just nodded again, flipping the menu's page before glancing up at the beautiful woman before her. "What are we doing here?"

Brenda's smile fell slightly. "We're having dinner."

Sharon flipped her hair behind her ear and gave Brenda a partial smile. "You can't tell me you're possibly interested in this….in me." Sharon's eyes fell. "I mean not now. I'm about to get a breast removed and apart from that I have a son, I have…so many things going on."

Brenda's hand slowly covered Sharon's stopping her tirade. "You know I don't care about your breast. Just…just let me be there for you. I wouldn't mind helpin' you out."

Sharon gave her an unreadable smile. "You're going to help me out when I'm confined to my bed for the next month?"

"Month! What about work?" Brenda flipped the page of her menu, but still had yet to look at it.

"I'm actually up for retirement." Sharon sat her menu down and crossed her arms. "I'm considering it."

"Retirement? No, no, no. I can't imagine you not bein' 'round the office."

Sharon nearly snorted with laughter, "so now you admit to liking me around."

Brenda gave her a half smile, "maybe I do." She huffed.

…

Dinner was delicious and despite the fact she'd finished an entire bowl of pasta, Brenda was now working on a piece of chocolate cake they'd intended to share but Sharon only had room for a bite. She watched as Brenda finished off every last bit of the rich, chocolately concoction. Sharon felt sick at the sight of Brenda with chocolate smeared all around her lips.

Pulling her napkin off her lap, Sharon leaned forward and wiped at Brenda's lips like she had done years ago for her children after they'd gotten messy. Brenda's eyes widened at her as she mothered her, cleaned her up. "Am I that messy?" She gave Sharon a lopsided smile.

"Yes." Sharon settled back in her seat and returned the Chief's funny grin.

The waiter came by with the check and without looking at it Sharon stuck her credit card into the little black folder.

"Well now, Capt'n, I could have gotten it." Brenda huffed again.

"No, no my treat. I insist." Sharon waved her off, leaning back to smile at the blonde before her.

"I enjoyed this, Sharon." Brenda reached out and took Sharon's hand.

"I did too, Brenda Leigh." Sharon nodded.

"Can we do it again?" Brenda ran her thumb gently over the back of Sharon's hand.

"I'd like that," Sharon squeezed Brenda's hand.

"I," Brenda tilted her head in that adorable way she had, "really…like you."

Sharon smiled and shook her head. "Out of all the people you could have chosen, you had to pick the flawed one."

"No," Brenda shook her head.

"Well I am." Sharon insisted.

"No, you're beautiful." Brenda blushed as the words left her mouth. She never, in a million years, would have imagined she'd be telling a woman she was beautiful. Did this make her gay? She'd never had these…feelings before. Were gay relationships different than their counterparts? This felt normal…it felt as it had any time before Brenda had dated someone – or dined someone as this situation would allude to. But of course it felt different because she truly cared about Sharon. She had no idea when it had happened, but it had.

"You're just saying that because I have cancer," Sharon graciously received the check from the waitress and opened it to calculate a sizeable tip. She'd ordered a simple salad because she was certain she couldn't keep much else down, so the bill was hardly as pricey as it could have been.

"That's not even funny," Brenda grabbed one of the mints that had come with the bill and immediately opened it. Sharon had no idea how she could eat so much and look so good.

Sharon eyed her over her mathematical calculations of the tip. "I suppose you have to have some kind of sense of humor to cope."

Brenda shrugged. "I guess that's true."

Sharon tucked the pen in the folder and closed it, reaching for her purse to put her card away. "Are you ready?"

"Does it have to be over?" Brenda reached for her own purse.

"Unfortunately," Sharon glanced at her watch as she put her billfold away, "I have a son to get home to. I have to be a responsible parent."

"He's old enough to take care of himself," Brenda stood up and reached out for Sharon, helping her up.

"Yes, but what I don't want to admit here is that I am exhausted. Even after taking the day off, you'd think I was rested and rearing to go." Sharon allowed Brenda to keep her arm on the small of her back as they walked to the stairs. It felt good, nice. It had been ages since anyone had touched her like this; her chest warmed at the contact.

"Ah, don't you feel bad 'bout it. You should get home and rest. I'd imagine undergoin' treatment knocks it out of you." Brenda let their arms loop together when they got to the lobby of the restaurant and as they reached the door Brenda added, "may I walk you to your car?"

Sharon laughed, "Afraid I might collapse on my way there?"

Brenda lightly hit at Sharon's arm and leaned in closer to the older woman. "You're very capable of makin' it there on your own. I simply wanted to kiss you and I thought that whole kissin' up against the side of a car thing sounded kind of hot."

"Hot?" Sharon eyed her briefly as she led the blonde to her lovely Prius. "I will tell you I am anything but hot. I'm practically an old woman after all; I might need a wheelchair soon to get around."

"Well I doubt that, Capt'n. And the other day was pretty _hot_." Brenda pulled their bodies closer together as they approached the black vehicle.

"Was it?" Sharon hummed, unlocking the vehicle before turning to lean against her car door.

"You know, I never realized you had a Prius." Brenda glanced over at the car.

"Well, I don't see how you'd remember after I picked you up in it the other night." Sharon crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, waiting for Brenda's eyes to return to her.

"Oh, good heavens that was a horrible evenin'. I'm so sorry 'bout that." Brenda sighed and put her handd to her forehead, ashamed of her actions that evening.

Sharon shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry about." She let a small smile play at the corner of her lips as she reached out to touch Brenda's arm. "I'm sure I would've slept with some random guy at a bar too if I hadn't had Lucas when my husband decided to leave me. Of course I've never been one for one night stands."

"Oh, Jesus, Sharon…how did you…I'm not either." Brenda shifted awkwardly.

Sharon laughed. "Don't worry about it. It happened and now you've gotten it out of your system."

Brenda just nodded, distracted with thoughts of her bad decisions of the previous week. "I just didn't feel like…Fritz was gone and you…"

"Shh," Sharon pulled Brenda to her and pressed their lips together. This evening they glided seamlessly together. Sharon's lips were moist and tasted like chocolate, not mints and metal like before. Their lips moved together gently, smoothly. It was Brenda who bit at Sharon's lower lip, slid her tongue between the older woman's parted, wanting mouth. She could feel Sharon's hand pulling her close by the lapel of her light trench coat. She liked this. She could do this forever.

"I should go," Sharon pulled away.

"All right, Capt'n. I'll let you get home to that son of yours. You'd better rest." Brenda grinned and stepped away from the brunette. "I had a lovely evenin'."

"I did too." Sharon gave her a genuine smile.

Brenda leaned in for another kiss. "Is this all right? Is this weird?" She hummed, stepping slightly away again.

"What? This…" Sharon looked between them. "This is two women having dinner and kissing."

"Does that make us lesbians?"

Sharon considered it for a moment before shrugging, "if you'd like to put it that way." She stroked a loose strand of hair out of her face. "Though I don't feel particularly gay when I'm with you."

Brenda smiled, "me neither, it just seems…normal."

"And why shouldn't it?" Sharon reached for her car door and opened it, tossing her purse inside.

"Well…I 'spose it is." Brenda pocketed her hands. "When can we do it again?"

"Well, when we're free and when Lucas doesn't expect me home for dinner." Sharon turned back to face Brenda.

Brenda leaned forward to kiss her Captain again. "Just let me know."

…

Chief Pope was mesmerized by the woman standing before him. She looked like a mere shell of the woman who had first told him she had cancer almost three months ago. She was exhausted, her eyes were red, she looked ill. Yet she was still the beautiful woman she had always been; the woman who Will had secretly admired for her strength even if he, like many of his colleagues, despised her.

And now she was presenting this proposition to him.

"Chief," her voice was low, tired.

"I don't know what to say, Captain. I need you here; you're the closest one to Major Crimes and in the event that something were to happen…"

"Are you suggesting that Major Crimes is unable to handle themselves without _my_ rule bending?"

"No, not at all." Will let the folder in his hands drop to his desk.

"Because I am certain that Major Crimes, and most specifically your beloved Chief Johnson are perfectly capable of working with anyone who might lead FID. And I know I've made my mistakes, but I've only done what I've believed to be right."

"I'm not questioning your judgment, Captain. I am simply implying that Major Crimes and FID now has a good working relationship. Thanks to you."

"It is not any better than if Boswell were in charge." Sharon set her jaw, oddly upset and surprised by the images currently running through her mind. Brenda Leigh had _slept_ with this man. It made her insides squirm.

Will Pope rubbed his forehead and sat down in his chair. "I just don't know what to say, Captain. I appreciate your services and I suppose I can't stop you from making this decision, but I would highly suggest you take the month off and then decide."

Sharon looked away from the Chief of Police, shifting slightly before returning her gaze to him. "Chief… Will, in a month I will be right back to where I've been these past few weeks. I don't have it in me. I cannot continue on this way."

"Consider it," Will resolutely stated.

Sharon took a deep breath and gave him a curt nod before leaving his office.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sharon let the cell phone drop to her side, tears sliding messily down her cheeks. Her hand, shaky and unsteady, moved to cover her face; a poor attempt at trying to stop the droplets, heavy and wet on her cheeks.

Her mother would book tickets to LA now. She'd be on the earliest available flight to be with her daughter, to sit at her side while she had her breast cut off.

Rain pounded on the window, a direct correlation with the tears sliding down her cheeks. She slid down on to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in to a ball and cry all night. This was not the normal, composed Captain of FID. This was the human Sharon Raydor who had feelings, who felt pain, who had just told her mother she had cancer.

She recalled how she'd let her mother dance around the real issue. She'd let her talk about the weather, about her dad and a recent visit to the doctor's. She'd agreed about how wonderful it was that Katie was going to have a baby.

And then she'd gasped back a tearful sigh and that was when Susan Middleton had known this was not a normal conversation. It was anything but.

She'd asked why Sharon hadn't been to a doctor before it had gotten to this point, why she wasn't taking care of herself, how Lucas was handling it. So many questions, so many accusations making Sharon feel even worse about her whole situation. And then Susan had promised she'd be out to LA as soon as she could get a ticket.

"Fuck," Sharon sighed in to her hands.

A slow rumbling of thunder started from somewhere far off in the distance. Lightening illuminated the picture window at the front of her house though she could have sworn she heard a car making its way down her street. Another clap of thunder and suddenly there was a knock on her front door.

"For fuck's sake," who would be out on a night like this?

Sharon wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to erase all remnants of her momentary lapse in her normally cool, calm, composed demeanor.

The banging of the door seemed to increase. Sharon didn't have time to make sure there weren't mascara lines running down her cheeks; whoever was at her door was not going away.

She reached for the knob and pulled open the door, revealing a rather soggy, soaked Brenda Leigh.

"What are you…" Sharon turned away from the blonde, embarrassed to have been caught crying. "Why are you here?"

"Sharon, I just want you to reconsider," Brenda just might have missed her tears. "Reconsider leavin'. Major Crimes needs you."

Sharon nearly snorted, "for God's sake, Brenda Leigh, Major Crimes hates me. This is really not a good time. Please." She tried to walk away from the blonde, to make her see that right now was not good. But the younger woman was having none of it.

"Just think of what would happen if you retire. Boswell's gonna be all over Major Crimes. I just know it." Brenda stomped her foot as another ripple of thunder filled the area.

"Brenda Leigh, this is not an appropriate…" Sharon staggered back and let her head fall towards the arm which was holding the door open. "This is not a good time."

"Sharon," Brenda seemed to register for the first time that Sharon was not all right.

"If this is some bullshit Chief _Pope_," the name came out vehemently, "put you up to then I suggest you go right on home." Sharon seethed through her teeth.

"He didn't put me up to it, I just…I wanted you to reconsider."

"For what reason!" Sharon knew her son was asleep upstairs, but she could hardly keep her voice from rising. Her Southern belle could be rather annoying. "God damn it." Sharon considered closing the door in the blonde's face…but she looked so…so…alluring all soaking wet.

Sharon took a deep breath and reached out, dragging Brenda Leigh inside her house. She motioned for her to take off her shoes and then headed for the kitchen, knowing the younger woman would follow. She attempted to wipe at her eyes. Maybe she could play the redness off as allergies.

"Tea?" Sharon offered as she turned on the stove for the kettle.

Arms wrapped around her, wet clothes pressed tightly up against the satiny night shirt she had haphazardly thrown on. "Why were you cryin'?" Brenda's voice was soft. So she was a good detective after all. _Damn it_.

"It's none of your business." Sharon tartly retorted.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Sharon Raydor. Don't you dare do that to me." Brenda pulled away and settled herself against the kitchen island.

Sharon didn't turn to look at her. "I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was firm as she reached in to a cabinet for tea bags and cups. "Tea?"

"I don't want your tea." Brenda snapped.

"Well then why are you here? To harass me about _retiring_ because I have to undergo surgery to _save_ my life?" Sharon turned slowly to face the woman who had completely disrupted her entire life.

True, their dinner had been lovely. Followed by many incidental moments tucked away in the privacy of cars before and after little getaways for lunch. But neither had crossed much more of a line than dining and kissing.

And now here was Brenda Leigh on her doorstep, begging for God only knew what.

"What do you want, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon's voice sounded impatient.

Their eyes burned in to one another, anger, disdain, perhaps hatred palpable around them. Then suddenly Brenda Leigh lunged forward, pressing Sharon up against the cabinet. Their lips met in a heated, passionate, forceful kiss. Sharon did not want to give up dominance, she would not grant Brenda's tongue access. Brenda was rough, she pulled Sharon tightly to her, struggling up against her.

Sharon unwillingly gasped – the gasp morphing in to a moan - against Brenda's lips. She immediately regretted it because Brenda's leg slid between her thighs. She lost all sense of resistance and opened her mouth wide, allowing Brenda's tongue to find its way delicately in to her mouth, looping upwards to hit the roof of her mouth, the back of her teeth.

"Fuck," Sharon whispered, her fingers curling in to Brenda's hair.

"I want to see you," Brenda whispered against her lips.

"No," Sharon shook her head, but was unable to part from Brenda's mouth.

"Let me see you," Brenda sighed, her hands reaching to unbutton her Captain's silky sleep shirt.

"No," Sharon protested again, her hands moved to tear Brenda's away, but the other woman needed skin, needed to see and feel more.

They struggled with Sharon's shirt, Brenda popping off several buttons as she tried to undo them while fighting back against Sharon who was shoving her off.

"Stop…fuck," Sharon moaned, her legs buckling as Brenda's hands moved to cup her breasts.

It took one, simple clearing of the throat to cause both women to freeze.

Sharon could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she pushed Brenda away from her and wrapped her shirt around herself. "Fuck," she kept cursing to herself.

Brenda slunk away, unable to look towards the entryway of the kitchen where she knew Sharon's son was now standing.

"I…I…I was…uh, thirsty," Lucas was looking at the floor, Sharon could tell out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh shit," Sharon cursed again.

"I should…I should really be goin'," Brenda tried to straighten out her unruffled appearance, feeling completely awkward.

The teapot started to whistle. Sharon turned, busying herself by taking the pot off the stove. She could feel Brenda staring at her, waiting for her to stop her from leaving, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around. Her son had just walked in on an overly inappropriate, private moment that should not have happened, really, in the first place.

She heard hurried footsteps shuffle out of the kitchen, past a mute Lucas. Sharon knew that Brenda would be unable to look at anything other than the floor as she left. She felt like a complete shit for not stopping her.

The door slammed shut.

Sharon's foot hit a button on the floor, sending the object flying to the other side of the kitchen. "Fuck," Sharon felt the tears return. She poured the steaming water in to a cup with a tea bag. With blurring vision she squeezed honey in to the glass and twirled the drink around with a spoon. Her hands clutched either side of the mug and she turned, sliding slowly down to the kitchen floor.

Lucas was still standing in the doorway. "I guess that it was more than a dinner."

"Oh, Luc." Sharon's head fell back against the cabinet. The moment suddenly became hysterical. Sharon was laughing. Sharon laughed so hard that the tears chocked her and she was crying again.

Lucas had never seen her like this and she felt terrible for breaking down in front of him.

She felt his small, lanky body beside her; offering reassurance with its closeness.

They sat like that for a long time; Sharon's tea went cold.

…

"Lieutenant Flynn, I don't find your comments very necessary or pertinent to this case. What we are lookin' at here are the potential suspects. Now I need you to get your head out of the gutter and back on to work. Is that too much to ask, Lieutenant?" It was not usual for Brenda to snap at any of the men in Major Crimes, but she was irritable. And it did not help that Andy was making off-handed comments about how it was a shame that Sharon Raydor was retiring before he could "make the moves" on her.

_As if she'd want him_, Brenda inwardly grimaced.

For the love of God, Brenda wasn't even sure if the woman wanted her…and they had actually kissed…

…and then she'd shut Brenda out.

Coming to her senses, Brenda realized her entire team was staring at her.

"Oh good heavens," Brenda sighed and shuffled the paperwork. "Find him," she pulled a mug shot out of the folder and shoved it into Provenza's hands.

She turned and stalked towards her office.

Tossing the folder on to her desk upon entering, she flopped down in her chair and pulled open her candy drawer. All she wanted was some chocolate and some quiet time.

Her fingers searched through the drawer, tactile memory knowing exactly which wrapper belonged to which candy. Though as her fingers grazed through the desk they caught on something that was not candy at all, but a piece of paper.

Frowning, she pulled the paper out. Glancing out her office door, Brenda made sure no one was around, before she opened the paper. She knew who it was from almost instinctively.

_Call me after 11:00 tonight. I'll explain everything._

_-S_

"Oh you…would…" Brenda huffed under her breath.

"Chief, are you going to ride along?" Provenza poked his head in the door.

"Yeah," she tucked the piece of paper in to her bag, grabbed a chocolate, and got up from her desk.

…

Sharon Raydor folded her arms over her chest and stared at the exit door. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn't ready for this. Her son, Jonathan, she could handle, but her _mother_ and _father_ might just be too much.

She watched as people filed out, waiting for the all too familiar petite woman and her tall, lanky husband of nearly sixty-five years. Christ they had to be old. How they were still alive and in good condition was still beyond her.

"Sharon!" Her mother had rounded the corner and was now hobbling towards her with her father in tow.

"Hello, mother." Sharon plastered on a smile and stepped forward meeting the shorter woman who crushed her in a hug.

"You look so good, a bit skinny, but good. Not at all like you have cancer." The woman whispered in to their hug.

How could having cancer make one look any different? She hadn't lost hair so it was practically an invisible problem. "Thanks, mom." Sharon pulled away and smiled.

"Where's Lucas? I'll never know why you named him Lucas, but I want to see him. I haven't seen him since Christmas." Her mother began rattling off as her father, Thomas, came up behind her and placed his arm reassuringly around her.

"Hello, darling." He whispered and kissed her forehead.

"Hi dad." She sighed and looped arms with him as she took her mother's bag from her. "I'm parked out front. And Lucas has school right now. I'm supposed to be at work."

"Oh, I know, honey, but I had to come and see you as soon as I heard. How could you keep this from me?" Susan, always the dramatist of the family, was laying on the guilt nice and thick.

Luckily for Sharon she had always had her father to cut in. "How about we get settled in before we start accosting, Susan." He calmly buffered. He had always been a silent, strong type. He loved Sharon dearly, but he'd always been hard on her to succeed, to make it, to do well. It was only after he'd turned sixty himself that he and Sharon had built a relationship other than that of overbearing father and daughter.

"All right, all right. I just need to know that my baby is okay."

"I'm fine, mother. And I'm _hardly_ your baby." Sharon bristled as she opened her trunk and placed her parent's luggage inside. This was going to be a long trip back to her house.

…

As soon as she led her parents in to the spare bedroom she thought of Brenda's night spent in the very bed they were about to sleep on. _Jesus_, she thought as she rolled her mother's suitcase in to the room. Unable to look at them for the time being, Sharon made a show of putting the suitcase on the chair in the corner and then fluffing the pillows on the bed. "I just changed the sheets. You know your way around, don't you? The bathrooms across the hall and – "

"We've been here before, Sharon." Her father reassuringly put a hand on her arm, stopping her from tidying the already immaculate bedroom more.

"Right, well…" in the presence of her parents, Sharon felt tongue-tied; "shall I let you get settled in?"

"Oh, why sure, honey. But you'd better let me cook you a proper meal. You look entirely too thin." Her mother smiled up at her. How could she say no to the woman who had raised her, even if she didn't feel like eating, at all?

And to top it all off Sharon was a nervous wreck. All she could think about was the fact that the night before she had let Brenda walk out the door without so much as asking her not to leave, stopping her. And today she'd offered a lame attempt at apologizing by slipping a piece of paper in to her candy drawer. She was a complete and utter failure in every and all relationships. Not to mention that now she would have her parents breathing down her neck, watching and surveying her every move as if she were still a child.

"Of course you can cook dinner. Would you like me to run out to the grocery store? Pick up a few things?" She wished she could still smoke. Were she able to, she would most likely have gone through an entire pack during her escape to the store.

"Well don't you have something to eat around here?" Susan's face fell; worry crinkling in the corners of her eyes.

"Of course I do, Mom," Sharon's lips tightened, trying her hardest to look well, happy, good.

"Well if you must get something, why don't you get us a ham? I'll make a honey glazed ham and some of those roasted sweet potatoes you love, and some cabbage? Do you have milk and flour?" _Christ_, her mother was about to prepare Thanksgiving dinner.

Sharon pulled out her phone and started typing down her mother's list of needs, wanting to make sure she took her time at the grocery store.

"Are you doing that e-mailing?" Her mother curtly stopped her ramblings about what foods Sharon needed to get and stared her daughter in the eye.

"Texting?" One eye brow rose to meet her mother's off-put expression.

"Yes, whatever it's called nowadays. You know it is highly inappropriate to e-mail when I'm talking to you." Susan huffed.

Oh God, this was going to be a long few weeks. "You meant 'text' and I wasn't texting, I was writing down your grocery list so I don't forget anything. See?" Sharon held out the screen to her mother who sighed and pushed her hand away.

"When will Lucas be here?" She inquired instead, moving to unzip her suitcase.

Sharon's father stared apologetically from the bed and she sighed, her shoulders sagging. "He should be home any time now." Poor Luc, he was about to be thrown to the wolves. He would be like a show pony on display. _Better him than me_, Sharon selfishly thought. "I'll just go get these groceries and be back in no time, all right? I'm glad you're here," Sharon stepped closer to her father and pressed her lips to his wrinkled forehead.

"We're glad you're all right." His eyes sparkled as he caught her hand.

"Couldn't be better." Sharon rolled her eyes and smiled at her mother. "Be back soon so you can prepare this feast."

And with that she made her exit, glad to be alone again with her thoughts…even if they did turn to the most likely upset Deputy Chief. What was she going to do about her?


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sharon could not stand the strong, savory smells spilling out from the kitchen. She'd taken to sitting in the living room, mulling over the last of her case load while biting on the end of her pen, wishing it were a cigarette. Lucas had taken to his grandmother – thank God – and was helping her out in the kitchen. Sharon wondered how her mother would feel if she knew her grandson was gay…or if her very own daughter was gay.

Oh God, was she gay?

The pen had softened considerably and cracked in Sharon's mouth. She immediately pulled the offending object out of her mouth and stared at it. Sure enough, she'd gnawed her way through the utensil. At least she hadn't made it through to the ink; that would've been a real mess.

Her father glanced up from the magazine article he was reading and frowned at her. "Why are you working yourself to death, Sharon?"

She shuffled the papers and reached in to her purse for a different pen. "I thought you always expected a high standard of work ethic. You ought to be proud I've stuck with it through all this shit."

Her father's eyes twinkled at her foul language. He wouldn't correct her, of this she knew. He only winked. "I am proud. I just think it will be nice when you retire."

Well what would she do when she retired? Sit around and rot away?

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Who would that be? Was Lucas having a friend over? Had Jonathan heard his grandparents would be there, pestering his mother, and perhaps he decided to save her?

"Do you want me to get that?" Thomas asked over his glasses.

"No…no I'll…I'll get it." Sharon sat down her newly acquired pen and got up – with some minor protestation from her body – from her spot on the ground. She made her way to the front door and instantly knew who it would be before her fingers even reached for the knob.

"What are you doing here?" Sharon stepped past the blonde, closing the door behind her, not wanting any one inside to witness this.

"I'm not going to sit around and wait to call you at eleven at night…for Heaven's sake, Sharon. I'm not some play thing you can bring out whenever you want." Brenda stamped her foot.

Throwing caution to the wind, Sharon stepped forward and covered Brenda's lips with her own, crushing their lips together in an attempt to finish off what they had started the night before. Sharon finally pulled away, tasting peanut butter and chocolate on the tip of her tongue, and stared at Brenda, "right now is really not the best time."

"Well for cryin' out loud, _when_ will it be a good time?" Brenda was quite caught off guard by the events that had just unfolded before her. She was still angry with Sharon, of course, but that kiss…Jesus would her body ever stop tingling the way it did when Sharon did that?

"Shh," Sharon glanced back towards the house, making sure the door was closed.

"Oh, for the love of God, Sharon. Do you have someone else in there? Are you seein' someone else?" Brenda practically screamed. Sharon knew her father was hearing this…even with hearing aids someone could hear Brenda squeal from a mile away.

"No, now will you shut the fuck up?" Sharon hissed.

"Well who is here? What is that smell?" Brenda had caught the strong wafting fragrance of ham in the air.

"Jesus Christ!" Sharon sighed, "my…"

"Sharon?" Thomas poked his head out the door. He glanced between both women and frowned. "Is everything all right out here?"

_Oh fuck_. "Yes, dad. Everything is fine." Sharon gave him a quick, uninspired smile. "This is…is…" Sharon frowned at Brenda, unable to put a label on whatever _this_ was, so she chose the easiest answer, "this is my superior officer Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson." Her eyes stayed trained on Brenda. "Brenda, this is my father, Thomas."

Brenda's face turned from confusion to a tight, curt smile. "Nice to meet ya." She accepted the hand Thomas was holding out to her.

"Well aren't you a looker?" Always the mischievous older man. Sharon really wished he wasn't here. "It's nice to meet someone my daughter works with."

"It's nice to meet…her father." Brenda struggled to find words. She was confused, thrown off. She obviously hadn't expected this.

Sharon wanted to crawl under her bed and hide.

"Why don't you stay for dinner? My wife's cooking up a storm and there'll be more than we can eat." He offered, holding the door open for his daughter and her _friend_ to come inside.

_Oh fucking shit_. Sharon thought. Brenda should run. She would run. She'd leave and that would probably be the end of their talking for some time. Why had she even given her her address? Now Brenda could show up whenever she pleased and that obviously always backfired on her.

"Sure, why not." Brenda raised an eyebrow rather suggestively as she passed by Sharon to follow her father inside.

Sharon's eyebrow rose, rather perplexed by Brenda's silent insinuation. Was she daring her? Was she going to taunt her mercilessly? Why was she staying?

…

Lucas looked up from slicing cabbage to find that his grandfather was not alone when he entered the kitchen. No, the woman whom Lucas had caught mulling his mother in this very room the night before was trailing behind him.

"Susan, we have a guest. This is Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. She works with Sharon." He brightly announced.

"Oh how lovely! It's so nice to meet someone who Sharon works with." Susan wiped off her hands on Sharon's mostly unused apron and emphatically reached out to shake Brenda's hand.

Lucas glanced behind Brenda and noticed his own mother looked as if she wanted to kill her father, or commit some other indecent act. She rubbed her forehead before reaching for a bottle of wine which was sitting atop the counter.

"Nice to meet ya, too." Brenda kindly greeted Lucas' grandmother, her eyes moving to meet his over Susan's shoulder.

"And have you met my grandson? This is Lucas." His grandfather proudly made the introduction, shoving Brenda closer towards Lucas.

"Why yes, yes, we've met before." Brenda had a panicked look that only Lucas could see.

Was he supposed to shake hands with her?

"Now, Sharon Renee, should you be drinking when you're…while you're…not well?" Lucas' grandmother chastised his poor mother who was steadily downing a glass of Chardonnay.

"Oh come on, mother. I'm not in the grave yet. A glass or two isn't going to hurt anything." Sharon sighed, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly at being scolded - Lucas could only assume - in front of Brenda Leigh.

Brenda reached out and grabbed Lucas' arm, surprising him. She leaned in, her face unreadable as she whispered against his ear, "Okay kid, I know that neither time we've met has been very appropriate, and I'm sorry 'bout that, but I'm here for your mother so I hope you can forgive me and we can forget those two times ever happened." And then she stepped away and cleared her throat as if nothing had just happened. And no one even seemed to notice because his grandmother was still laying in to his mother.

Lucas reeled backwards, surprised by Brenda's bluntness, forwardness. Perhaps he could like her after all. She was perfectly flawed, blunt to a fault, and clearly cared for his mother. Had it been David, or even his own father, they definitely would not have subjected themselves to having dinner with his grandparents willingly.

"Was there some important police matter you two needed to discuss?" Lucas' rather wise grandfather cut in, most likely in an attempt to get his grandmother off Sharon's case.

Sharon's eyes widened and she nodded. "Yes, _Chief Johnson_," the title felt trite now coming from his mother whom he'd seen passionately responding to Brenda's attack the night before, "and I have important business to discuss. So if you wouldn't mind," Sharon's eyes caught Brenda's and she nodded, "we can talk upstairs."

Brenda nodded and politely excused herself from the room, practically running to catch up with Sharon who was quickly retreating from the room.

Yes…they probably had _very_ important business to attend to.

Lucas nearly laughed out loud, but stopped when he saw his grandmother staring at him curiously.

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing," Lucas shrugged and went back to cutting cabbage.

…

"Why did you say you'd stay?" Sharon cried, but despite her best attempt at being angry, her eyes betrayed an entirely different story. Those fiery green eyes were ablaze with a passion, a longing Brenda Leigh had never witnessed before in her life. Those eyes were so distracting.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Sharon _Renee_," Brenda's eyes offered a similar twinkle as she retorted. "Why did you have to introduce me as 'Chief Deputy Brenda Leigh Johnson'? I might not be your girlfriend, but I am a hell of a lot more than your superior officer."

"Oh well excuse me for doing what you _asked_ me to do, _Chief_." Sharon snarled.

"Oh good heavens." Brenda huffed.

"Why didn't you just fucking call me like I asked?" Sharon sighed, running a hand distractedly through her hair.

Jesus, Brenda wanted to touch that hair. "Why couldn't you just tell me that your parents were comin' in to town?"

"I didn't think I needed to tell you the explicit details of my life." Sharon exclaimed. "And can you keep your voice down?"

"No! Why should I keep my voice down! Why didn't you stop me from leavin' last night?" Brenda was on the verge of stamping her foot.

"I couldn't…I wasn't…I don't even know why I'm explaining myself to you." Sharon threw up her hands and then reached for Brenda, pulling them in to another crushing kiss.

"No," Brenda protested, trying to push her away.

"Why not?" Sharon inquired through half-deflected, half-reciprocated kisses.

"'Cause I'm still mad at you." Brenda sighed, the duo finding their way to the mattress, Sharon wrestling Brenda on to the top of it.

"I'm still mad at you." Sharon growled, pinning Brenda beneath her.

"Good," Brenda shoved and roughly pushed Sharon off of her only to try and straddle the older woman. Her mind was completely blank as she gave in to the power of Sharon's lips. They fought together, tongues battling to glide into the softness of one another's mouths. Teeth hit together in this strange, intoxicating dance of lips and bodies and hands. Brenda felt Sharon's fingers on her bare stomach, pinching, grabbing, stroking the soft skin there. She moaned at the contact and reached for Sharon's hips, having the strongest urge to pulse her core in to something.

This was entirely inappropriate, a bit awkward, a bit unexpected, but completely and oddly…comfortable, Brenda realized as she let Sharon kiss her neck.

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Shit," Sharon yell-whispered, lips frozen against Brenda skin. "Fuck."

"Uh, Sharon, grandma's ready for dinner, so you two should hurry it up and get downstairs." Lucas' voice whispered through the door.

"We'll be down in a minute, Luc." Sharon's voice was oddly calm as she called out to her son.

Brenda sat back on the bed, readjusting her shirt, running a hand through her hair. "I'm still mad."

Sharon met Brenda's eyes and stared at her. The duo stayed like that for some time until their situation sunk in and both dissolved in to a fit of giggles. Sharon reached for a throw pillow and tossed it at Brenda Leigh. "Go fix your hair. We have dinner with my parents to attend."

"Will we ever get a break?" Brenda sighed as she got up and moved towards what could only be the bathroom.

"Maybe when I'm dead." Sharon laughed and sat up on the edge of the bed, her back popping as she did so. "Which could be any time now."

"Oh please," Brenda called from the bathroom. She appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a hand towel. "I need you, Sharon Raydor."

Sharon felt her stomach churn at those very words. "Don't…don't say things like that when my parents are downstairs."

A rather sadistic smile fluttered across Brenda's lips and she sat the towel on the sink before making her exit from the bedroom. Sharon was left to stare after her in awe.

What had they just gotten themselves in to? And what was more…how would it be to actually _be_ with a woman? The thought stuck in Sharon's mind as she stepped in to her bathroom to straighten out her hair and make sure her clothes were in place. She knew she wanted it, maybe even needed it…but…what if neither knew what to do? What if it was awful?

And now she was thinking about sex, a most inappropriate thing to think about when she had to face her parents _and_ Brenda Leigh for dinner.

…

"So how long have you two worked together?" Susan inquired, passing a basket of rolls towards Lucas.

Lucas had – Sharon realized – conveniently placed Brenda Leigh right next to her and Brenda kept rubbing her foot ever so slightly against Sharon's leg. It was driving her mad.

"Oh, I don't know. You've been here longer than I have, isn't that right?" Brenda turned to look at Sharon, her eyes betraying hunger, want as she stared in to Sharon's eyes.

"Yes, yes..." and there was Brenda's foot again. "We only ran in to one another about three years ago when I got promoted to the head of FID."

"Now that accent of yours…where are you from?" Susan asked, blindly unaware of the chemistry between her daughter and the woman she was questioning – almost as if she were her daughter's suitor. But she would never make that connection. She was simply a curious old woman.

"I'm from Georgia, ma'am." Brenda smiled and accepted a large helping of ham from Sharon's father. "Thank you." She smiled over at him.

"Georgia! What brought you out to LA?" Susan spooned some cabbage on to Sharon's plate after noticing her daughter hadn't touched at thing. Well how could she eat at a time like this?

"A job offer." Brenda simply stated. Though both she and Sharon knew it was a bit more complex than just accepting a job offer.

"Susan, don't you think you could let our guest eat without interrogating her?" Thomas coolly asked his wife who sat back and acted as if she was offended by his suggestion.

"Well I'm just curious about her life." Susan insisted.

"Oh, it's no problem," Brenda Leigh gave a winning smile to Thomas as her hand reached stealthily under the table and landed in Sharon's lap.

The older woman, who was mostly moving food around on her plate, let her fork drop. She pushed back her chair and reached for her wine glass. "I'm getting more wine." She announced and stood up.

"Sharon, you don't need any more wine." Susan cautioned, but Sharon was past caring what her mother thought.

She made her escape and poured, with an unsteady hand, a glass of wine which she drank down quickly before pouring another. When she turned, however, she found Brenda standing behind her. "I think your parents are lovely, Sharon."

"You are being entirely inappropriate." Sharon retaliated, not kindly.

A small smile flitted at the corner of the blonde's lips. "I apologize, Capt'n. Can I have some of that Merlot?"

"Certainly." Sharon reached for the bottle and topped off Brenda's glass. "Well you've met my family. Don't you want to run away yet?"

"No. Though I'm not sure about your momma. I don't think I like the way she talks to you." Brenda let her fingers caress Sharon's cheek.

Sharon sighed and pulled Brenda in for a Merlot and Chardonnay flavored kiss. "I guess we should get back out there. And for the love of God, stop touching my thigh." Sharon half-playfully warned.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sharon made a quick escape outside, wishing she had more than just a glass of wine in hand. She sunk down on to her porch steps, attempting to collect her thoughts, attempting to figure out what was happening. Brenda Leigh had made no move to leave after dinner and had taken to talking with Sharon's father in the living room while Lucas and her mother cleaned up from dinner. It was like one big happy family – except no one, minus Lucas, suspected that Sharon and Brenda Leigh were more than just work colleagues. Did her parents even know what homosexuality was?

Sharon heard the front door open behind her and she felt her heart stop beating. If this was Brenda Leigh about to leave, she wasn't sure she could handle it. She wanted another moment alone with her, yet the prospect also made her nervous.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Or rather Grandma sent me out to make sure you were still alive." Lucas' voice cut in, his tall, meatless body coming to rest beside her own.

Sharon's heartbeat evened out, but her hand was shaky. Why did Brenda Leigh have to make her so nervous? Why was the blonde even _here_?

She took a sip of her wine and closed her eyes, "I'm fine, Luc." Her voice was deep.

"Chief Johnson really gets under your skin, doesn't she?" Lucas was staring at her, she could feel his eyes.

A smile slowly turned up the corner of her lips. "She does."

"Why can't you just tell her that? Why does it have to be so difficult?" Lucas reached for a leaf off a bush that was sitting by the porch steps and idly played with it.

"I don't know." Sharon laughed, her nerves evening out as she realized how her son saw things. He could tell Brenda liked her and she liked Brenda. It seemed so simple. Why couldn't it be?

"Grandpa's questioning her." Lucas responded after awhile.

"Oh God." Sharon finished off the wine, knowing she needed to stop drinking. She'd had more than enough that evening. "Should I save her?"

"I think she'd probably like that." Lucas nodded.

"How can I get Grandma and Grandpa off my case for awhile?" Sharon frowned, twirling the empty glass in her fingers.

"Work's never stopped you before," Lucas immediately piped up.

"I don't have any…oh, like a case might have come up and Brenda and I just might be needed?" Lucas nodded as he watched his mother catch on. Sharon's whole face broke in to a smile. She cupped Lucas' chin in her hand and exclaimed, "This is why I keep you around. You're such a good kid. Probably my favorite, but don't tell your siblings," and she kissed him right on the mouth.

"Gross mom." Lucas pushed her away and wiped furiously at his lips.

"I have a case to solve." Sharon pulled herself up and reached in to her pocket for her phone. She'd taken an acting class or two, she could feign an emergency.

…

"What are we doin', Capt'n?" Brenda stared out the passenger side window, watching as the other woman drove away from the hustle and bustle of downtown LA. She'd long since gathered that there wasn't an emergency or a case for either of them. Sharon had simply wanted an escape.

"We are getting away." Sharon glanced over at her beautiful passenger, glad that they were finally alone together.

"Your parents mean well," Brenda turned to look at the auburn haired woman.

"I know that. They're just…they're a little bit overwhelming." Sharon sighed, surprised when Brenda's hand came to rest casually on her thigh, making little patterns with her fingers over Sharon's jean clad leg. "Plus, it was Lucas' idea. Could you stop doing that?" Sharon flexed her thigh in an attempt to remove the maddening woman's roaming hand from her person.

"What? This bothers you?" Brenda grinned and trailed a finger dangerously too close to Sharon's midsection before removing her hand.

Sharon felt her breathing hitch for a moment before quickly regaining her poker face.

"All right, then. I'll leave you alone." Brenda settled back in her seat and grinned to herself.

"It's not that I don't…Christ, Brenda Leigh," Sharon let out a breath that caused her shoulders to slouch. "You realize that next week I'll be having my breast cut off."

"I've known that for some time, Sharon." Brenda hummed, messing with the radio as they began to lose reception of whatever station they were listening to. It sounded like talk radio, though neither was paying much attention.

"Well, I just don't…" she hated that Brenda Leigh got her so tongue-tied. "I enjoyed our moment. Probably too much, but I don't even know…and I just…I don't think you'll want…"

"Sharon Raydor." Brenda turned to face her. "Can you shut up for one minute?"

Sharon gave Brenda a frightened, tight-lipped glance.

"How could you possibly know what I want? Now I don't wanna overstep a boundary if you're not ready right now, but that doesn't change the fact that I wanna do so many things to you, breast or no breast." Brenda was dead serious.

"You say that now, but…"

"It's not going to change and if I have to prove that to you then I will." Brenda resolutely crossed her arms and sunk down in her seat.

Sharon grasped the steering wheel tighter and pushed her foot down on the accelerator. Sharon never knew what Brenda wanted. She was impulsive and childish and Sharon would be surprised if Brenda's little infatuation with her lasted past her surgery.

Though…just maybe…

They both heard the phone ringing and both quickly jumped to answer it. But alas it was Brenda's cell phone. An actual murder had happened and Brenda was needed.

Sharon made an emergency turn around on the freeway and started heading back in to town. She stuck her foot on the accelerator, almost glad that Brenda had a case. She didn't want to have this awkward, confusing conversation.

"Be my girlfriend." Brenda blurted out.

Sharon let the car slow to 60 mph, curling her fingers tightly around the leather of her steering wheel.

The silence in the car became palpable. Brenda could hear her heart beating – loudly – in her ears. Her breathing sounded extra loud, so much so, that she bit her lip to keep from breathing, holding the air inside.

"Bre…" Sharon finally exhaled before stopping herself.

Brenda didn't think she could handle this rejection. She could feel the 'no' on the tip of Sharon's tongue.

"Brenda, we're not high schoolers." Sharon sighed. "We're not…it's not…"

"Okay, don't…don't say it. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have asked."

"Brenda, it's not that I don't want…"

"No, it's fine." Brenda shrunk down in to her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it's just not the right time. Can't you get that through your head?" Sharon didn't like this defensive Brenda Leigh. She wanted her to be understanding, but the blonde couldn't get it through her selfish mind that not everything was about her.

"When is it _ever_ a good time?" Brenda snidely commented.

"Can you shut the fuck up? Jesus Christ, Brenda." Sharon stepped harder on the gas pedal. "Do you realize what I've been going through? Do you realize I still haven't told one of my children I have cancer and now I have my parents here for…who knows how long…and Jonathan's coming in to town and Christ."

"You don't have time for me. I get it." Brenda was still staring out the window, sulking.

"No, Brenda…fuck." Sharon let her hand hit against the wheel. She was glad that they were close to Brenda's car, close to Brenda leaving her alone and giving her some much needed space to get her head on straight.

The rest of the car ride was silent. She pulled into her driveway and shut off the car. Brenda slid out the passenger side door without another word and slammed the door so roughly the whole car shook. Sharon closed her eyes and let her head fall forward, her forehead resting on the steering wheel.

She needed another drink and a cigarette.

The _things_ Brenda did to her…

…

The knocking on the car window got incessantly louder. Sharon could not figure out exactly where she was or why she was still in her car, but she quickly found her youngest child's face pressed up against the window, a look of terror and panic etched in his features.

Sharon's eyes slowly came in to focus as she lazily started the car and rolled down the window. "What?"

"Jesus, Sharon. I thought you were dead." Lucas angrily stated, crossing his arms over his chest. Why was everyone being so defensive?

"Nope. Just must've dozed off." Sharon could feel the tension in her neck as she set up. Her hand moved to the aching area and tenderly massaged it.

"Grandma and Grandpa are worried about you. I told them I'd come and check on you, but you'd better get inside. They're pissed that you haven't told Katie. They think you should," his voice lowered as he added, "_tonight_."

"Oh fucking hell." Sharon groaned.

"Yeah that's what I was thinking." Lucas leaned on the window. "Where's Brenda?"

"Oh, you actually expected her to still be here? No, no, she _actually_ got a case." Her tone was bitter, even Lucas could pick up on that.

"What happened?" Lucas could tell it was more than just his mother being jealous of Brenda's real excuse to leave. No, this felt like more, like something had happened between them.

"It's a long story, Luc. Let's just…let's get inside." Sharon rubbed her forehead and shut off her car after rolling the window back up. She reached for her bag and then climbed out.

…

"How could you not tell her, Sharon Renee? Don't you want her to know? To be here for you?" Susan was having a very adamant conversation with her daughter in the kitchen. She was practically shoving Lucas' phone in to Sharon's hands in an attempt to get her to call her daughter.

"She's pregnant, Mother. She doesn't need to worry about me." Sharon pushed past the older woman and opened the refrigerator door. As if she hadn't already drunk enough, she thought that maybe one more glass…

"You don't need any more wine, Sharon." Susan shoved the refrigerator closed and held the phone out again. "Call her."

"Jesus," Sharon muttered under her breath.

"She'd want to know. Wouldn't you prefer she found out before you…in case you…" Susan's harsh demeanor seemed to crack for a moment. She was worried, Sharon knew it. Sharon knew that her mother was afraid she was going to outlive her own daughter. Susan was afraid she was going to die.

"No, Mom. No…" Sharon took the phone and wrapped her arms around her elderly mother. The woman was a firecracker but she meant well.

Susan gave in to the hug, but not wanting to break down, she gently pushed her daughter away after a few moments and held up the phone. "Call."

And without putting up another fight, Susan left the kitchen.

Sharon bit her lip and felt her stomach knot at the prospect of breaking this news to her daughter. It would be devastating.

She knew she had to do it. She'd put it off for far too long.

The number was dialed and the send button was pressed before she could take it all back, before she could chicken out again.

"Luc?" Katie's voice filled the line, concern hidden in the timbre.

"No, honey…it's your mother." Sharon's voice was already shaky. Christ, she wished she could hold it together. And just like that she wished Brenda Leigh Johnson was there…holding her hand. Fuck.

"Is something wrong? Did something happen to Luc?" Katie sounded worried.

"No…no. Luc is just fine." Sharon attempted a smile, but she could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks. The tears were evident in her voice.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Katie demanded, panic filling the line.

"Katie, honey, I have cancer." Sharon had to come right out with it. Katie didn't need to be in the dark any longer.

"Oh, God." Katie gasped. "Mom, are you going to be okay? Do you want me to take some time off of work? Oh, Jesus." She could hear Nate asking what was wrong on the other end of the line followed by Katie telling him that her mother had cancer. Christ, it wasn't that big of a deal, was it?

"Shh, honey." Sharon wiped at her eyes, but realized the tears weren't going to stop. She covered her face with her free hand. "It's going to be okay. It's going to be fine."

"We're coming, Mom. We're going to come as soon as possible."

"No, now listen. Your grandparents are already here and Jonathan's coming…"

"You told him before me?" Katie gasped.

"Honey, I could hardly tell you. It's been hard."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Katie was crying now. Sharon just wanted to hold her.

"I was going to…I'm sorry. But listen, I'm having surgery next Wednesday. I'll be laid up at home for the next few weeks. You don't have to come right now."

"I want to be there, Mom." Katie sighed.

"Don't cry, honey." Sharon hypocritically rubbed at her wet face. She felt a hand fall on her shoulder and, at first, thought it was Brenda, but quickly realized it was Lucas. Of course Brenda wasn't there.

"We'll see about booking tickets."

Sharon sighed, "okay." So her entire family was going to be there. Great. Just great. And all Sharon wanted to do was curl up in to a ball next to Brenda Leigh Johnson and forget the world.

But Brenda Leigh was not happy with her. Brenda Leigh though that Sharon didn't want her, that Sharon was uninterested. But how could Sharon possibly make for a good _girlfriend_ when she could hardly take care of herself any more. She was falling apart. She didn't have the energy, the time to invest in someone else. It would be wrong…why couldn't Brenda understand?

But she did want Brenda to be there for her…she couldn't shake the image of the woman holding her, kissing her, touching her…

…but it would never work. It couldn't work.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Though Boswell's half-assed attempt to have a "retirement" party for Sharon was rather charming, Sharon had never liked being the center of attention. She partook in a slice of cake before feigning too much paperwork and making a beeline for her office. She missed the downcast look of rejection which passed over Boswell's features.

While cleaning out her desk, Sharon felt oddly not ready to give up. She felt entirely unaccomplished, like she'd given in. She'd let this disease beat her down. She _really _didn't want to leave her work, her life. She needed her work to keep her mind busy, to keep her from getting bored. What was she going to do now?

…

The first day of retirement was spent fixing up the second guest bedroom upstairs. Katie and Nate were getting a rental car for their weeklong stay in Los Angeles. They were driving down from the airport later that afternoon and would sleep in this room. Sharon wanted to make sure it was aired out and prepared for them. Her mother was helping and they worked in relative silence as they tucked the fresh sheets in to the corners of the bed. They moved in perfect harmony, as if they always made beds together.

"What's on your mind?" Susan asked as she reached for a pillow.

Sharon shook her head, her hair falling in her eyes. "I've just never…I'm retired. It's so…"

"I felt the same way when I finally left work." Susan knew her daughter well enough to know what she was talking about.

"It's just so weird." Sharon sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the pillowcase over the pillow.

"Do you feel all right?" Susan put a reassuring hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Mother. I just wish this wasn't happening." _To me_. The words faltered on her tongue and Sharon felt herself losing control. She felt the tears welling in her eyes and the comforting arms that wrapped protectively around her only served to make it worse. She broke down; as if every moment had been moving towards this, as if she had finally just realized what was happening.

She'd been so strong, so brave. She'd pushed through all the pain at work; she'd been as strong as she could for Lucas. But now she was no longer capable of keeping it all in. Now she needed her mother to hold her and rock her as if she were a child.

"Shh, it's okay." Susan whispered, pressing her lips to her middle child's head.

It wasn't okay.

She wanted Brenda, but right now she couldn't have her. It wasn't the right time. It wasn't right.

The tears increased for a moment, spilling messily down her face.

"Shh," her mother rubbed her back, soothing her the best way she knew how. "Sharon Renee Middleton Raydor, you're stronger than this. You're going to have this surgery and life is going to go on and it's going to be just fine." Susan's voice was firm, not allowing her worry, her own sadness to show through. "Now you'd better get it together. Your daughter and son-in-law are going to be here soon and she's not going to want to see your tear-stained cheeks." Susan pulled her daughter's face from her hands and stared in to her watery eyes. "It's going to be okay." She kissed her daughter's forehead again and then got up to finish making the bed.

Sharon wiped at her eyes and excused herself from the room. She escaped to her bedroom and washed her face and reapplied make-up until her momentary lapse no longer shown through. She looked radiant – all thanks to the make-up – and healthy. This was how she would present herself to her daughter. This was the face she had to maintain during the day until she could break down alone, by herself at night.

She had three days until she went in to surgery. Three days until she no longer had a left breast.

…

Brenda Leigh had never been more disappointed in her life. She'd heard about Sharon leaving but she had not attended the party – she couldn't imagine Sharon even attended, at least not willingly – and she had not run in to the woman on her last day.

She wondered if their connection would now be lost. She also wondered if the woman thought about her as much as she thought about her.

Brenda spent most of her mindless paperwork time thinking about Sharon Raydor. She imagined the woman standing in her kitchen – that gorgeous kitchen with tons of windows overlooking her yard, and those pristine countertops – making a cup of tea, or she imagined Sharon talking with her son all curled up on those brown sofas in her living room. She thought about Sharon's parents, how they were handling their daughter's revelation that she had cancer. She thought about them staying in the same room she had that one evening which felt like an eternity ago. She would give anything just to go back to that room, just for even one more night, to be _that_ close to her Captain again.

But Sharon was letting her slip away. Sharon didn't care enough to call her, to talk to her, to let her be her girlfriend. And yes, when she thought about it that way it did feel childish to say girlfriend, but Brenda wanted that. She wanted them to be happily together; she wanted Sharon to let her in, to let her comfort her.

But Sharon was not so easy to persuade, to have. Sharon was a lot more work than Brenda had originally thought.

Was she worth it?

And then Brenda would see Sharon's smiling, happy, laughing face the moment after Lucas had caught them in her bedroom and she knew she was worth it. She had to be worth it. But what could Brenda do now?

…

"Mother!" Katie wrapped her arms around the auburn haired woman. "Oh, it's so good to see you."

"You too, darling." Sharon returned the sentiment, but could feel her daughter's stomach pressing against her own. "Jesus, honey. I'm not…" Sharon placed her hand on her stomach, "I'm not sure I'm ready to see you pregnant. You're my little girl."

"Oh, mom." Katie just laughed and wrapped her arms around her mother again.

"Hello Sharon," Nate smiled at her from behind his wife.

"Hello there," Sharon smiled back. "Welcome to my humble abode. Do you want to put your stuff upstairs and get settled before we eat?"

"Yes, I'd like to freshen up after that flight," Katie sighed, readjusting the bag she was carrying on her shoulder.

"Well you didn't have to come, honey." Sharon gave her a tight smile.

"I wanted to be here, so there." Katie stuck out her tongue and then turned to find Lucas standing beside his mother. "Hey there Luc," she pulled him in to a tight hug. "How are you?"

"Good. Do you want me to get that bag?" He offered.

"I'm pregnant, not about to die," she scoffed, before realizing what she'd just said. She turned, mortified to look at her mother.

Sharon just laughed, "I'm not about to die either. Honey, let Lucas take that bag. You've had a long day."

"And you'd better say hello to your Grandmother and Grandpa." Susan came in to the room and pulled her Granddaughter in to her arms.

"Hello Grandma," Katie welcomed the hug.

"I hope you're prepared for chicken and potatoes because I've been cooking all afternoon." Susan grinned.

"I'm starving. Let us get settled in and we'll be right down."

And just like that her family was gradually coming back together and Sharon felt lost. She watched as her daughter and her husband made their way upstairs, watched as her mother returned to the kitchen and her father took a seat in the living room. Lucas settled back down at the coffee table to finish homework. There were so many people surrounding her and yet she felt alone.

She wanted to cry again, but she kept the tears at bay. At least for the time being.

It was not until she was curled up in bed that evening that the tears resurfaced.

…

Sharon's third day of retirement started out like a wonderful Saturday off – minus her entire family (sans Jonathan) in her home. She had a cup of coffee with her father, read the morning paper, and watched the news curled up on the couch.

That afternoon she decided she would pick up her oldest son from the airport. She wanted to get away, to clear her mind and so she begged her parents to let her be the one, the only one to get Jonathan at the airport. They finally gave in.

Sharon dressed herself and left an hour before Jonathan's plane was due to arrive.

She took her drive to LAX to really contemplate what she was missing. She had her whole family with her, attempting to offer her support, love, everything she could possibly need. But Sharon Raydor no longer felt like herself.

Sharon Raydor was no longer an LAPD Captain.

Sharon Raydor no longer spoke or heard from Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson.

The thought set Sharon on the verge of tears. She had the strangest urge to call her, just to hear Brenda talk, to hear her say something, anything. But she'd ruined everything. She'd ruined her chances to be with her.

And why did she need the annoying, persistent, childish woman?

Her life should be easier without her.

And yet it wasn't.

Everything seemed so complicated.

Sharon found a spot out front of the exit terminal. She put her car in to park and sat back against her seat. It felt strange to be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. What would she do with her work clothes now? Would she ever need them again?

She was wearing flats for fuck's sake. Would she ever wear heels again? Would she have a reason?

There was a knocking on the car door which abruptly brought Sharon out of her trance. She turned to find Jonathan waving at her through the window.

Sharon found a smile and unbuckled her seatbelt, moving to get out of the car.

"Jonathan, my baby!" She cried and wrapped her arms around her son. He was beginning to look so much like his father. It was rather eerie.

"Hi, Mom," he grinned and returned the embrace. "You look good."

"I look sick, now get in the car. You have to help me endure the entire family all cooped up in my house." She groaned while opening the trunk for his suitcase.

"Oh God, that bad?" He lifted his bag easily inside and then closed the trunk.

"That bad." Sharon confirmed and moved to get back in to the car.

"Mind if I smoke?" Jonathan asked as he got in the passenger seat.

"In my Prius?" Sharon frowned.

"Well I can wait, but it sounds like I'll need something to help cope." He grinned, his sleazy award winning grin. He was so much like his father.

"Only if I can have one, and you'd better roll the God damn window down." She instructed, knowing one cigarette wouldn't have any affect because she was off the chemotherapy regime for the time being.

"Deal," Jonathan handed her a cigarette before rolling down the window. "So how bad are we talking?"

"Got a light?" Sharon rolled down her window and sighed.

"It really is that bad, huh?"

"Yeah, and don't tell Lucas or Katie about this." She held up the cigarette and leaned over for him to light it. "They'll kill me."

"My lips are sealed. So you uh, got something on your mind?" He was a perceptive child…or he'd caught her looking contemplative, upset.

"Other than the fact that I'm about to get my boob cut off, no." She quickly replied, a stream of smoke snaking out of her mouth and in to the smoggy LA air.

"I call bullshit."

"You can't call bullshit." Sharon laughed.

"I can and just did. What's on your mind?" Jonathan knew his mother, knew her all too well.

"I just feel lost without my job. You know how important it was to me, and I…it just feels strange to not have somewhere to go in the morning." Sharon shrugged.

"It's only been a few days."

"I know, but it feels like an eternity. I need something, Jon, something to do! I feel like I'm going crazy." She leaned back in her seat as she fell in to a steady speed on the freeway.

"You need to get laid." Jonathan plainly stated.

"Jon!" Sharon cried, punching him with her free hand.

"What? It's true. It would help if you just…"

"No." She shook her head because the instant he'd suggested she get laid she had the most shocking image of Brenda Leigh Johnson lying naked on her bed. That could not happen, should not happen. "I don't _need_ sex."

"Hey, I don't either. I'm just saying it could help." He shrugged and placed the cigarette between his lips.

"Yeah, well it's not likely to happen any time soon." Sharon sighed before pulling entirely too much smoke in to her lungs. It burned. "Besides," the smoke came out as she opened her mouth. She coughed a bit before continuing; "besides how could I get laid with the circus traipsing through my house?"

"They'll be gone soon enough, hopefully." Jonathan smiled over at his mother.

…

"No, no, no!" Brenda was near stomping her foot on the ground. "I need the evidence now."

Brenda Leigh was covered in blood. Three officers had shot at armed gang members. Four gang members were dead and two officers had been shot. Despite the fact she'd nearly been shot herself and had worked hard to keep a fellow officer alive before the ambulances arrived, Brenda Leigh was adamantly attempting to persuade Boswell in to letting her get on to the scene to collect the evidence that would link a Major Crimes' wanted man to this incident.

But Boswell would have none of it. "FID has complete control of this crime scene for the next forty-eight hours. At that time I can release the scene to you."

"But I need this evidence now!" Brenda growled in frustration. "Can't we just work out some sort of arrangement, Detective?"

Boswell looked up from the meticulous notes he was taking. "Is that how it worked with Captain Raydor?"

The name sent a jolt of energy spiraling through Brenda's body and she wanted to throttle the man for bringing _her_ in to the conversation. "You keep her out of this." Brenda hissed.

"Come on, Chief. We can't do anything else here. You're covered in blood. You should go home." Lieutenant Flynn pulled at her arm, trying to stop the raging woman before she attacked the smug looking bald man.

"Is it bad that I almost miss 'the Witch'?" Brenda overheard Provenza quip as she turned to walk away.

Ignoring any further comments about Sharon Raydor, Brenda walked swiftly away from the crime scene, away from her job, and got in to her car. She was angry, frustrated, and upset. Turning on the ignition she found herself automatically driving in the opposite direction of her home.

Several minutes later Brenda turned off the ignition and stared at the immaculate home across from where she'd parked. The lights were on in the living room and she could make out the silhouettes of people.

What she wouldn't give to be one of those people, so close to _her_.

Tears fell from her eyes as she looked down and realized – almost for the first time – that she was covered in blood and no longer welcomed in to Sharon Raydor's life.

…

Sharon fell in to her bed and the tears came almost immediately. She'd made it through dinner with her entire family present. She'd smiled, she'd laughed, she'd listened while everyone chattered on, but a piece of her was missing.

Curling in to a ball, she stifled her tears in her pillow while hugging a decorative pillow to her stomach as tightly as she possibly could.

…

Lucas, being the easiest child to oust from a room since he was the youngest, had been banished to the living room couch. The living room was situated right below the master bedroom and though he knew she was trying to be quiet, every night Lucas listened to Sharon cry herself to sleep.

It was possibly the saddest thing he'd ever had to witness. She was a martyr; strong for everyone, but now her happy, put-together façade was simply a cover for this pain that she was going through and Lucas couldn't help but feel worried and sad.

He knew that she hated retirement. He knew she was scared about her upcoming procedure – which was only two days away. But he was smart enough to know that she missed Brenda. She needed Brenda.

An idea began to nag at the corner of his mind. He knew it would take a lot of work, perhaps a lot of convincing, but if his mother wasn't going to do it, then he might as well help her along.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey all of my lovely fanfiction reviewers. Thank you so much. I really appreciate all of the feedback on here, and due to a few recent comments I realize it _has_ been awhile since I've posted. So here is a new chapter. I hope to complete this story soon and all of your reviews are so inspiring and give me the encouragement to keep writing - which I desperately need right now - so I look forward to your feedback! Thank you again, so so so much. **

Chapter 22

Lucas waited anxiously, watching the front door for any signs of life on the other side.

He'd done a most dangerous thing. He'd found the number for the LAPD and worked his way up until he reached Major Crimes. It took several tries, but he'd finally been sent to Deputy Chief Johnson's message machine.

He wasn't even sure she'd gotten the message.

The plan that had seemed foolproof the evening before, felt silly the day after. But what if the Chief didn't know about his mother's surgery? She would want to be there, wouldn't she?

Pulling his phone from its spot wedged between the cushions of the couch, Lucas checked to see what time it was. Half past midnight.

Christ, it was getting late. His mother was still in tears in her bedroom, but he knew she'd fall asleep soon.

Just as he locked his phone, Lucas felt it vibrate. He'd received a text. From an unknown number. It had to be…

'I'm outside.'

Lucas tossed the covers off of himself and ran towards the front door. He unlocked and opened it as quietly as he could, his heart pounding. If his mother didn't want to see the woman on the other side of the door, then Lucas knew he'd be in for a real reprimand. But the fact that the Deputy Chief herself was standing on the front porch in the middle of the night after he'd left a brief, albeit pleading, message on her work machine had to mean something. Didn't it?

"Are you sure 'bout this?" She took in a deep breath, her eyes locked on Lucas'.

"Positive. Please, come in." Lucas whispered. "Everyone's asleep upstairs so you'll have to be really quiet." He warned.

"I work for the LAPD. I can manage to keep quiet." She retorted.

Lucas certainly hoped she was right.

…

Brenda came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs when she heard a rather loud sob coming from upstairs. Her stomach tightened.

She was nervous. More nervous than she'd ever recalled having been before in her life. Her hands were shaking. She wondered if this was even a good idea. After all, it'd been Sharon's kid who'd called her up to beg her to come over because his mother – though she wouldn't admit it – was upset; her mastectomy was tomorrow.

Upon hearing Lucas' desperate message on her machine after a long day of an onsite investigation, Brenda's chest had tightened, her heart had fluttered, and she knew that she couldn't stay away any longer. This was her ticket inside; this was her chance to be close to Sharon again. She missed her. She hated to admit it, but she did.

It took a great deal of effort to keep quiet on the stairs. The nervous energy Brenda was feeling made her clumsy, making her feel a loss of control over her own motor functions. She nearly tripped on a step, but quickly caught herself and turned to look down at Lucas who was staring up at her, eyes wide.

"Shh," he cautioned.

She shot him a snotty look before continuing up the stairs. She should be grateful towards him, but all she could think about was the woman who was crying alone in her bedroom.

Finally reaching the second floor, Brenda took in the sight of closed doors. It truly was a packed house. She didn't belong here. She wasn't a part of this.

But when her eyes fell on Sharon's bedroom door, she felt a wave of courage hit. Taking a deep breath, Brenda stepped forward. Her hand found the knob and while she knew she wanted nothing more than to go inside and be in the same room with the auburn haired woman, her heart was pounding so loud that she was surprised she hadn't woken the entire house.

Her palm was sweaty. Brenda turned the handle and peered in to the room.

Sharon was lying atop her comforter, curled in to a ball around one of her spare pillows. Her hair was messily billowed out behind her and she was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. Her sock clad feet rubbed mindlessly together, and her body shook as she cried.

Brenda only had a second to take in the sight of Sharon Raydor before the woman sensed someone else's presence in her room. She slowly turned in her bed, attempting to face the door. "Lucas?"

She didn't have her glasses on. She couldn't see that it was Brenda.

"No," Brenda closed the door behind her as quietly as she possibly could. Her heart hurt for Sharon – something, Brenda realized, she had never felt before in her life. This emphatic pain was new, foreign to her. She moved to the bed, hoping that Sharon would let her in.

"Brenda?" Sharon gasped, reaching for her glasses, her body jumping in to a seated position. She wiped furiously at her face before placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "What are you doing here?"

"Shh," Brenda moved to her and wrapped her arms around the older woman, pulling her tightly to her. She could feel the woman tense a bit before giving in to the embrace.

"Luc's downstairs, is he awake? How did you get in?" Sharon was filled with question, but her tears began soaking through Brenda's blouse.

"Shh, he let me in."

"I don't want you to see me like this," Sharon moaned, clearly mortified to be caught in this state. But Brenda was past caring what Sharon looked like, or what sort of state the older woman was in. She wanted to be here, wrapped around her.

"Shh, you need to sleep." Brenda took Sharon's glasses off the bridge of her nose and placed them back on the nightstand. She slipped her own shoes off and maneuvered the sheets around so that both were under them.

Sharon simply clutched on to Brenda and held her, the tears quieting as she began to drift off to sleep. But before she was entirely out, Sharon whispered, "don't you ever leave me again, Brenda Leigh."

Brenda tangled her fingers in to Sharon's hair and kissed her forehead. "I don't plan on it."

…

Sharon awoke to her daughter gently nudging her awake. "Mom," Katie's voice sounded tired. Sharon groaned and realized she was grasping the sheet in her hand, her face firmly planted in the pillow. What time was it?

"Mom, it's time to wake up. We have to get you to the hospital." Her daughter gently ran her hand over her arm, soothingly.

Something in the motion reminded her of the previous evening. Where was Brenda? Sharon's eyes came open, but the space on the bed beside her was empty. Was she still here? Was she now downstairs with the rest of her family?

As Sharon began to break out of her hazy state of slumber, she began to wonder if her early morning visitor had been a dream, a mirage to distract her from what was about to happen.

"Come on, Mom." Katie picked up her mother's glasses from the bedside table as the older woman turned over on to her back.

"Where's she?" Sharon's voice was thick, sleepy.

"What?" Katie frowned down at her mother, offering her her glasses.

Sharon took them and stared, once again, over to see if Brenda had just been hiding. But there was no trace of the younger woman.

"There's no one else here," Katie whispered, "it was a dream."

Sharon now frowned at her daughter. It hadn't been a dream. Brenda had been here.

"Let me wake her up," Lucas appeared at his sister's side, pushing Katie away.

"Hey, I can wake her up." Katie protested.

"I'm better at it," Lucas grinned and shoved his sister out of the room before turning back to his mother who was now sitting up. "I made her leave." He whispered, opening the blinds so the early morning sunrise rays could seep in to the room.

"What?" Sharon stared drearily at her youngest son.

"I woke her up and told her to leave." He whispered again, checking to make sure no one else was overhearing their conversation. "She'll come by after work, when you wake up."

"How did you…" Sharon frowned, selfishly wishing that Lucas hadn't asked Brenda to leave. She needed Brenda now, now before she was about to undergo this operation.

"Good morning, darling," Susan came padding in to the room. "You should get up and get dressed."

Sharon groaned again and longed to go back to sleep with Brenda's arms wrapped around her, holding her as they had the night before. But she had a day of surgery to undergo. Her breast was about to be removed from her person.

"I need some coffee," Sharon sighed.

"No, Sharon, you can't have anything to eat or drink. Remember, Dr. Suarez told you." Susan's worried, anxious tone had already settled in.

"I know, I know. Please. Can I just have two seconds alone?" Sharon's voice rose. She was irritated, exhausted. It was too early.

Susan gave her a rather jilted look before moving to leave the room, motioning for Lucas to follow. Sharon closed the door behind her mother and son before she went in to the bathroom. Her eyes caught on her rather dreary looking face. The green orbs had bags under them, probably because she hadn't been able to sleep the past few nights, and her hair was a disaster from tossing and turning. The most restful sleep she'd had in nearly a week had come at the mercy of Brenda Leigh Johnson and now she was gone. Again. And the sleep hadn't lasted long enough.

Sharon slid out of her oversized T-shirt and then stood in awe in front of the mirror.

Her breast looked so normal in comparison to the other. Both nipples were still present, the soft brownish-red of the areolas perfect. Her fingers brushed over the soft skin around her left nipple, causing it to become taut on contact. Her head tilted to the side as she examined the breast, as if mesmerized for the first time by the object. This was the last time she would have a breast there. In a matter of hours it would be gone and, hopefully, so would the cancer.

She had no choice but to make peace with the fact that her breast was a sacrifice for her life. A small price to pay, she supposed, in the grand scheme of things.

Her fingers slid over the surface a final time before she moved to her closet. Gabrielle had instructed her to wear lose fitting clothing, something comfortable. Sharon slid in to a sports bra and a black shirt with her most comfortable pair of jeans completing the outfit.

She put on her game face, clearing her mind of every doubt or fear, every trace of Brenda Leigh Johnson having held her in her arms while she slept.

She needed to stay present; she needed to be okay with this.

The mastectomy was going to happen whether she wanted it or not.

…and then Brenda would be there when she woke up, unless she really had been dreaming.

This was all a bad dream.

…

Brenda sucked furiously on a Tootsie Pop, her fingers shaky as she shuffled paperwork.

Anxiously she glanced at the clock on the corner of her computer screen. It was only six in the morning, but Sharon was about to undergo surgery. She rubbed at her forehead, exhausted from her sleepless night the evening before.

The smell of Sharon's perfume, her fabric softener, her shampoo filled Brenda's nostrils. She immediately wished she hadn't been rudely waken by Sharon's son nearly three hours ago and forced away from the beautiful woman sleeping in her arms. She could smell her on her cardigan, even her fingers smelled a mixture of Sharon's scents.

She wanted to be near her so badly, but she couldn't be. It wouldn't have been appropriate for Sharon's family to discover her in Sharon's bed the morning of her surgery.

She hoped Sharon understood.

…

Two cars and five family members too many later and Sharon was seated on an operating table in a frontward opening hospital gown. Her sock clad feet swung mindlessly back and forth, her vision blurred due to lack of having her glasses. She felt oddly like a child again, a scared, frightened little child.

"Now we're going to make an oval shaped incision in the breast and we will remove the nipple and areola after doing this." The surgeon was explaining the procedure, but Sharon's mind was not on what had to be done.

She swallowed, hearing her heart pounding in her ears, wishing that she was anywhere but here.

…

Brenda stared, almost obsessively, at the clock, watching as another minute passed. Was Sharon already in surgery? She hoped that the day would not pick up because she had plans to turn in the paperwork she'd had piling up for the last few days and then leave work at the earliest possible time to make it to Sharon's bedside. She wanted to be there, even if she had to formulate some sort of explanation for Sharon's family.

At least she knew her parents now; it could easily be played off as a friend visiting.

Her obsession with getting to Sharon felt much like her obsession with closing a case.

She needed to be with her.

…

Lucas watched as his sister paced back and forth in the hospital lobby. He could feel his own heart pounding in his chest. He supposed this was the first time he'd seen his mother weak, broken. The last few weeks had been hard, not only on her but on him. He was used to her strength, her invincibility. But now she was passed out in an operating room. The image of her sitting on that hospital bed before surgery was burned in to his retinas, and he could barely face the thought of what she would look like afterwards.

Lucas had never liked hospitals. He also did not like that thought of seeing his mother in one, actually in the bed recovering from surgery.

He felt queasy.

"Hey, Luc," Jonathan had returned from a trip to the vending machines. "What're you thinking about?" He casually patted his little brother's knee.

Lucas shrugged and mindlessly toyed with the stack of magazines next to him.

"Are you worried about her?" Jonathan opened a bag of chips and held it out to Lucas. Lucas shook his head, his stomach was in knots. He could hardly think about food right now.

"You know she's going to be fine." Jonathan sat back in the chair and ate a few chips.

"You don't know that." Lucas blurted out.

"Yes, I do." Jonathan grinned. "She's a fighter. Always has been. She's not going to die any time soon."

"You'd better hope you're telling the truth." Lucas frowned.

"Or what?" Jonathan leaned forward.

"I'll…I'll…" Lucas shrugged again, feeling childish for being on the verge of tears.

Jonathan sat his bag of chips down on a nearby table and reached for Lucas. "Hey, little bro. It's all right. She's going to be just fine."

She'd better be.

…

It was five by the time Brenda crossed her last "t" and dotted her last "i". She walked to Will's office and dropped the pile of papers on his desk.

Will looked up at her over his reading glasses. "Someone's being efficient today. Got a hot date?"

Brenda looked less than amused. "Hardly. You know I can't stand this paperwork nonsense." She pulled off her own glasses and rubbed her forehead.

"It's a necessary evil when you're the head of Major Crimes." Will just gave her a slimy smile. How had she ever slept with him? She supposed he'd been much more handsome back in the day, but now Brenda just couldn't look at him without revulsion. "Speaking of, you know that Boswell has a job to do, the same as you."

"I am aware." Brenda crossed her arms, checking the clock on Will's desk to see what time it was. She wanted to leave.

"Well then I hope you can work with him next time, instead of trying to overstep your boundaries."

Brenda nearly jumped forward, "I had a case to solve, Will. You _knew_ that. He wasn't doin' anything but causin' trouble."

"It was his crime scene."

"He had _my_ evidence. And thanks to him, our guy got away again." Brenda huffed.

"Well, too bad Raydor's not here to cover your ass." Will smirked.

Brenda nearly laid in to him again, but her phone started to ring. She felt her heart sinking as she answered, knowing full well that a case had magically popped up.

…

Lucas was the last to enter the recovery room. He didn't want to see his mother like this.

It took every ounce of courage in his body to look up at her and to actually see her in the hospital bed.

It dawned on him, upon looking at her, that she was a very petite woman. She looked so small, frail in that giant hospital bed. A nurse was unhooking an oxygen tube from her nose and her eyes were blearily opening.

Lucas watched as his grandmother moved to her side, reaching for her hand and stroking her forehead. Katie, too, moved to touch her mother, but Lucas simply pressed himself up against the wall and watched his family dote over Sharon.

She was coming out of her anesthesia trance. She began to register her surroundings, her family.

And Lucas could see in the way she kept glancing off in to the distance that she'd expected Brenda to be there. She knew she wasn't.

He could see the disappointment etch itself deep in her frown lines, but she remained calm, cool, and collected. She smiled up at her mother; she assured Katie that she was all right.

And then she called for Lucas.

He came slowly to her side, his grandmother moving back to give him some space.

Up close Lucas could see his mother's clean, make-up free face; every line, every wrinkle visible as she gazed hazily up at him. Her hands had needles and gadgets connected to them, but she weakly reached for his hand.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

Lucas could only nod. He was glad to see that spark in her eye; a glimpse of his old mother was still there even if the sadness of that day's events, coupled with his mother's lack of Brenda Leigh was causing her palpable pain.

He wanted to tell her that Brenda was on her way, but he had no idea of knowing.

Brenda hadn't answered the text message he'd sent right before they went to see Sharon wake up.

He hoped for his mother's sake that she made it to the hospital some time soon.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The immense pain splayed through her chest, as if someone were cutting her open with a knife. It hurt to move, and she supposed it very well should. Her chest felt constricted by the bandages and carefully crafted bra that held everything together.

She wanted more medicine, but she'd just watched the nurse put a shot of it in to her IV. Perhaps the pain would quell soon. She hoped and prayed that it did.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized it was almost ten at night. It wasn't necessarily late, but it was late enough to have sent her family home, assuring them she'd be just fine all by herself. Though in reality she did not feel "just fine" all by herself. She wished someone had stayed behind, if only to hold her hand and tell her that the pain would eventually go away.

She had nearly given up hope of Brenda Leigh making an appearance. She decided the previous evening had been some wonderful stress induced calming mechanism her mind had conjured up for her. She hadn't _really_ been in bed with her; it had all been an illusion.

She glanced up at the television to find that the show she'd been watching had ended. Now some horrible infomercial was playing. She knew the remote was at her side, but it took some maneuvering to get her right hand over the object. Her fingers found the channel buttons and slowly she moved through the stations until HGTV came on. Always a sucker for shows about houses, Sharon settled back and watched through droopy eyes as a young couple tried to decide on a house in Costa Rica. What she wouldn't give to be lying on a beach right now, far away from all this shit.

"Ma'am, I really don't think she's in any state to be receiving visitors, it's just…"

"I need to see her."

Sharon seemed to perk up. That sounded like…

"She's been through a very rough procedure today she's…"

"Listen, _Ma'am_," Southern charm was laid on thick outside her hospital room, "I will be _very_ delicate with her, if you're worryin' 'bout that."

"I just don't think-"

"Then don't think. I'll be in and out." A figure darkened the doorway to the room. Sharon's eyes were now trained on the door, curiosity getting the better of her. Could this be her imagination again? Or was this real?

Sharon was beginning to feel as if she'd lost all grasp of reality.

Messy blonde hair, tired brown eyes, and a weary, worried tight-lipped smile adorned Brenda's façade.

"I thought you promised you weren't going to leave." Sharon pointedly looked back towards the TV.

"Oh, Sharon." Brenda bit her lip and stepped forward, moving rapidly closer so that she was soon in Sharon's space. Her hands reached for Sharon's hand, her grasp tight. She leaned down to kiss Sharon's forehead. "I came as soon as I could." She whispered, reaching for a chair so that she could sit by Sharon's side.

"Case came up?" Sharon sleepily glanced over at Brenda, glad that the nurse had left her glasses on. She could at least make out the other woman's face.

"As a matter of fact it did. But we got it wrapped up fairly quickly," Brenda pulled off her jacket and smiled at Sharon.

Sharon just took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Are you really going to be in and out?" She finally asked after a few moments hesitation.

"'Course not." Brenda laughed. "I planned on bein' here with you, if that's all right."

Sharon just nodded, her eyes still closed. The pain was beginning to decrease as the medicine slid in to her veins.

"All night?" She finally asked.

"All night." Brenda was smiling at her when she opened her eyes. "Can I tell you that you look beautiful even in a hospital bed?" She leaned up, sliding her fingers through Sharon's hair, a gesture Sharon couldn't stop because she wasn't supposed to lift her arms, and she knew it'd hurt like hell if she did.

"Bullshit." Sharon croaked out through dry lips, but a smile quickly formed.

They sat for some time in silence, Brenda laying her head on the pillow next to Sharon, her body twisted in the chair. She didn't want to climb on to the bed because she might hurt the fragile woman, so she made do with the awkward position.

"Brenda," Sharon finally whispered.

"Yes?" The blonde turned to look at Sharon again. She was about to doze off, Brenda could tell.

"Tell me it's going to be okay." She whispered.

Brenda leaned in and kissed her cheek, nuzzling her neck for a moment. "It's going to be okay." She whispered against the older woman's ear.

Sharon seemed to smile and fall sleepily back against the pillow. She was asleep in a matter of minutes.

Brenda had never felt happier in her life.

…

Katie was the first to arrive the next morning. She'd left earliest of all her siblings to make sure her mother was doing all right, having been unable to sleep the night before at the thought of her mother being in a hospital bed, recovering.

Stepping in to the hospital room where her mother had been placed, she quickly realized she was not the only visitor.

Blonde hair splayed across her mother's chest, a hand was entwined in her hair, and it looked like a pile of drool was adorning her mother's shoulder from whoever this mystery guest was. Frightened, and slightly confused as to what she should do, Katie froze.

The blonde woman at her mother's side stirred, perhaps she'd heard her enter. Her mouth closed and her eyes opened, a confused look displayed on her tired features. She sat up and stretched her back – the position she'd been in had looked rather uncomfortable, so Katie was sure it hurt.

Then the woman's eyes registered Katie's presence in the room and the blonde woman froze as well.

"Who are you?" Katie found her voice.

"I…uh," the blonde ran a hand through her hair as she slowly moved away from Katie's mother. "I'm a friend of Sharon's…from the LAPD, I just…I must've fallen asleep…Good heavens," she looked as if she were speaking to herself now as she looked down, attempting to retrieve her belongings.

"A friend? Why were you laying on top of her?" Katie was beginning to get annoyed with this woman. "What's your name?"

"I'm Brenda…Brenda Leigh. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't mean for you to find me here." Her cheeks were flushed.

"Brenda?" Sharon's voice was weak. "Brenda, where are you going?" Neither woman had noticed that Sharon had begun to wake up.

"Mother," Katie quickly moved to her mother's side.

"I have to go, Sharon." Brenda was embarrassed now.

"Brenda, wait." Sharon pleaded.

"What is she doing here, Mom?" Katie was staring between the women in confusion.

"She's here for me, please…Brenda don't leave." Her mother looked as if she wanted to jump up and lung toward this unfamiliar blonde woman, but she couldn't even sit up.

"Well this is rather awkward, don't you think, Sharon?" This Brenda woman was pulling her jacket back on and running her fingers errantly through her hair.

"Mom, who is this woman?" Katie demanded, knowing full well that her mother should not be put through this stress.

"She's my…" Sharon muttered but then stopped.

Katie frowned, watching as the two women regarded one another warily.

Brenda slowly, carefully, moved back towards her mother. She leaned forward, as if she might actually kiss her on the forehead, but stopped. "I'll come by when I can."

Sharon just nodded and looked anywhere but at Brenda's retreating form.

"Who was that, mother?" Katie stroked her mother's hair out of her face and frowned down at her.

"Just like she said," Sharon ran her tongue across her dry lips. "Can you get me that water?" She motioned towards a plastic cup with a straw hanging out of it. "She works for the LAPD."

Katie moved to get the water for her mother, but looked unconvinced. "Are you…with her?"

"What?" Sharon's forehead wrinkled.

"Well," Katie held the straw so that her mother could drink the water. "She looked awfully close to just be a colleague."

"It's a long complicated story, darling." Sharon tried to brush her daughter off. Katie could see that her mother was in no state to explain herself either.

"Will she be back?" Katie sat the water cup down before taking the chair her mother's visitor had just vacated.

Sharon shrugged. "I never know what to expect with her." She reached for the television remote in an attempt to ignore the matter at hand. "And Katie," she quickly added, turning to look at her daughter.

"Yes?" Katie was taking the remote from her as if she couldn't use it.

"Don't mention this to Grandma or Grandpa."

…

Sharon kissed Lucas goodbye. "I promise you I'm fine. Good as new." A smile crept on to her lips.

Lucas just shook his head. "You're ridiculous, Sharon. And I'm not a child. I know you're okay."

Sharon smiled up at him, feeling much more like herself again after two days of recovery. She'd be released the following afternoon and then she could lie around in her own home and feel like less of an invalid all cooped up in a hospital. "Thank you for calling her, by the way." Sharon lowered her voice, checking to make sure the rest of her family was preoccupied and not listening.

"What are you…" Lucas frowned, but then seemed to understand. "But she hasn't…"

"She has. The last few nights." Sharon smiled.

Lucas returned the smile. "Good."

"Are you ready to go?" Susan came up behind Lucas and put a hand on either side of his broad shoulders.

"Yeah," Lucas nodded and turned to follow his brother out of the room.

"We'll be by in the late afternoon to get you out of here." Susan turned her attention to her daughter, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Thank you," Sharon smiled up at her. "Make sure Lucas finishes his homework. I don't want him to get behind on account of me." Sharon added.

"Don't worry. Thomas has been on him since Wednesday." Susan assured her. "We'll see you tomorrow."

Sharon nodded, but her eyes quickly fell to a familiar form standing in the doorway of the hospital room. She had to squint to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her, but there she was. Shamelessly Brenda had arrived before her family had left.

"Oh, Brenda Leigh! I didn't expect to see you here," Susan welcomed the blonde with a hug, taking the blonde off-guard.

"Yes, well I thought I'd stop by to say 'hi'. I just got off work." Brenda smiled at Susan and Thomas and carefully ignored the awkward glance Katie was giving her.

Lucas eyed his mother who gave him a slight shrug, having not anticipated this accidental run in.

"How nice of you to check in on our daughter," Thomas stepped forward and smiled at the blonde. "We were just leaving, so we'll leave you two alone."

Brenda just nodded and then caught eyes with Lucas. He gave her a quick smile before heading out of the room after his grandparents. Katie continued with her curious gaze upon the blonde woman as she pulled her husband out of the room, waving to her mother and wishing her a goodnight as they went.

Jonathan, completely oblivious to the whole situation, kissed his mother on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, Jon." Sharon distractedly dismissed him, her eyes finally focused on Brenda Leigh.

"Well that was close," Brenda turned to make sure that the last Raydor had exited before moving to Sharon's bedside. She leaned down and pressed her lips to the older woman's and then plopped down in the hospital chair closest to Sharon's bed.

"Why are you here so early?" Sharon glanced at the clock. It was only seven.

"I got off work, like I said." Brenda shrugged and pulled a pile of paperwork out of her bag. "And I wanted to be here. Do you mind if I do this?" She held up a folder.

Sharon just shrugged. "Actually doing the paperwork?"

"Unfortunately." Brenda sighed. "You know I really hate Boswell."

"Don't…don't hate him." Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Well I do! You know he wouldn't let us in to a crime scene and I completely lost my lead. I have nothin' now thanks to him."

"And you think my presence would assuage the situation?" Sharon's elegant eyebrow rose.

"It would've been helpful at least." Brenda huffed.

"You know I bent the rules for you," Sharon shook her head and glanced up at the television.

"I know now that you were very helpful. I would like to disagree that you bent rules for me." Brenda rubbed at her forehead, pulling out her glasses. She had set the folders up on Sharon as if she were a table, careful to avoid her healing chest.

Sharon laughed. "Boswell will come around. He's just asserting his limited power."

"I certainly hope that's the case." Brenda bent over Sharon, mindlessly filling in the empty lines and spaces.

"I'm glad I can act as your desk," Sharon glanced down, her eyes gazing over the words Brenda had written.

Brenda laughed, "you're a good solid surface. Until you breathe. Could you stop breathin'?"

"Very funny," Sharon moved her hand to reach for a report. "You are aware that you never fill this form out correctly?"

Brenda's brow creased. "What?"

"You always leave this line empty. That's where you're supposed to write, not this line…" Sharon had to drop the file to point at the spaces.

Brenda picked it up and studied the paper. "Well for Heaven's sake. How come you never told me?" She messily crossed off what she'd written and moved it to the other line.

"I never thought to." Sharon shrugged.

…

"Okay, Luc. What's the deal with this Brenda Leigh woman?" Katie had cornered her youngest brother.

She'd discovered both of her brother's in the back yard, Lucas with his homework and Jonathan boredly looking over work while smoking a cigarette on the patio.

"Who is Brenda Leigh?" Jonathan interjected, curiosity bringing him in to the conversation.

Lucas hated when his siblings ganged up on him.

"That woman who came to visit mom." Katie turned to inform her older brother.

"That attractive blonde woman?" Jonathan's interest was piqued.

Lucas set down his pencil and rubbed at his forehead. How would he explain this to them?

"Why was she with Mom the other morning when I got there early?" Katie frowned. "Why hasn't Mom mentioned her?"

Lucas took a deep breath. "They're kind of dating but not really."

"Wait," Jonathan flicked his cigarette over the porch and leaned towards his little brother. "Wait, are you telling me that Mom is gay?"

Lucas cracked his knuckles and looked from the shocked expression on his sister's face to the intrigued look on his brother's. "I don't know. It's…they have a complicated relationship."

"When did Mom decide to be gay?" Katie fell down in to the remaining patio chair.

"I don't think it was a decision…" Lucas started.

"That Brenda woman was sexy. I can't believe she's interested in Mom." Jonathan shook his head.

"I can't believe our Mother is dating women now." Katie looked grossed out by Jonathan's enthusiasm towards the whole subject.

"I think it's fine." Lucas shrugged. "I just wish they'd figure out what they were doing."

"Do you really want Mom to have a girlfriend?" Katie turned back to her little brother.

"Katie, you do realize he's gay." Jonathan quickly jumped in. Lucas didn't need his older brother to tell his sister that, but he supposed it was time she knew. He'd always wondered how she would take it.

"What? How come no one in this family tells me anything. I mean, I guess I knew." Katie shook her head. "So you two are fine with it?"

"I mean, whatever makes her happy." Jonathan sat back. "I think our annual skiing trips will get a lot more interesting."

Katie sat back in the chair. "I think this is going to take me some time to process."

…

"Brenda," Sharon whispered.

"Hmm?" The blonde woman had climbed in to the bed on Sharon's right side and was carefully cuddling the other woman as they watched a mindless television movie together. Brenda was falling asleep on Sharon's shoulder, exhausted from her day.

"Are you going to come see me at home?" She let her fingers trail lightly up and down on a patch of Brenda's leg she could reach.

"'Course." Brenda pressed her lips lazily to Sharon's neck.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Brenda Leigh was not expecting the person whom was standing in Sharon Raydor's hospital room early the next morning. She'd gotten up to walk around the floor, to stretch her back, to use the restroom, and when she'd returned she'd found an unwelcomed visitor standing with flowers and balloons.

"Well, thank you. So much," Sharon's voice was tight, abnormally high as she accepted the presents.

"Chief Johnson, what are you doing here?" The unwelcome man had seen her hovering in the doorway.

"I might ask you the same thing, Detective." Brenda stepped inside the room and crossed her arms.

"Detective Boswell was just checking in on me," Sharon's eyes widened in Brenda's direction, as if she wanted Brenda to get the man out of the room for her.

"That's so thoughtful of you, Detective." Brenda put on her sweetest smile and leaned back against the wall. She supposed this confirmed the suspicions that Boswell had the hots for his superior. She was going to stand back and watch him fall all over himself for Sharon; it would bring Brenda great joy to know she had what he wanted. "I was just doing the same thing, but, unfortunately, I didn't have time to get any flowers or balloons."

Sharon glared in her direction. Brenda knew the auburn haired, bedridden woman wanted him gone just as much as she wanted him gone.

"Well, I'm surprised to find you here, Chief Johnson. What with all the animosity you and Captain Raydor have." Boswell flashed her a conniving smile, as if he wanted _her_ to leave.

"I'm hardly a Captain anymore," Sharon bristled.

"What is it that you're doing here, Chief?" Boswell squinted, ignoring Sharon's dismissal of her previous title.

"I told you, Detective. I'm visiting Sharon Raydor." Brenda pushed off the wall and stepped towards him, not afraid to butt heads with the interim head of FID.

"You wouldn't be discussing important work related matter with the previous head of Internal Affairs, would you?" Boswell sneered.

"I can assure you I am in no state to be talking with _her_ about anything work related, Detective," Sharon butted in, breaking the stare down that was happening between the blonde and the bald man.

Boswell readjusted his suit jacket and turned to Sharon, as if he just remembered she were in the room. "I hope that's not the case. At any rate," he looked down at his watch, "I should get back to the office. I hope you have a fast recovery and enjoy the flowers." Brenda wanted to smack the greasy smile he was giving Sharon off his face, but she refrained and huffily stepped out of his way as he left.

Brenda glared after him. How dare he waltz in here and act like he and Sharon had had a glorious work relationship? How dare he think he had some kind of relationship with her outside of work? What right did he have?

"I hate roses," Sharon's small voice mused, breaking Brenda out of her trance.

Glancing to the small woman in the large hospital bed, she saw green eyes taking in the bouquet that had been left on her bedside table.

The absurdity of the situation seemed to register for the first time and both dissolved in to laughter.

…

Sharon had never been happier in her life to be in her own home in her own room in her own bed. She savored the feel of the freshly washed sheets – compliments of her mother – and the knowledge that her bedside table was fully stocked with pain medication.

Easing back against the pillows, Sharon flipped through the channels on her television. She needed to ask Lucas to get her a book to read. She knew the next few weeks she'd be bored out of her mind, especially with her parents and Katie leaving soon.

She was glad that Jonathan had offered to stick around for awhile and help out. He could take her to doctor's appointments until she was able to drive again and it would be nice to have him around for Luc's sake.

She almost wished her family was already gone so that awkward nights of Brenda Leigh Johnson wouldn't have to feel so much like secret rendezvous'. She was a grown woman, for Pete's sake. She didn't need to sneak around, and yet she wasn't entirely certain what she and Brenda were doing, or if it warranted coming out to her entire family.

So, for the time being, she relished the fact that around eleven every night, Brenda Leigh was let in the front door using the hidden key, and then at five the next morning she left.

"Mom?"

Sharon turned to find Katie standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Can we talk?" Katie glanced behind her, as if making sure no one else were around.

"Sure, honey." Sharon patted a spot on the bed.

Katie closed the door behind her and sat down, easing in to a reclining position beside her mother. She seemed to get lost in an advertisement for pre-owned vehicles for a moment.

Sharon studied her daughter's features, wondering just what this was about.

"How do you feel?" Katie finally asked, reaching for a pill bottle, turning it around in her hands.

"Good, what do you want to talk about?" Sharon muted the television and carefully readjusted her glasses – putting her hand to her face hurt like hell.

"This…uh…this Brenda…"

Oh God, did she know about her nightly visits? Maybe they weren't as discreet as she'd originally thought. "Yes?"

"Do you…you like her?" Katie sat the pill bottle back down and ran her finger over a pattern in the comforter.

Sharon shrugged, "yes."

"That's why…that's why she was there?"

"Yes." Sharon nodded.

"Are you…" Sharon knew the word at the tip of her daughter's tongue. _Gay_. Was she gay?

"I don't know. I don't think it matters, really."

Katie nodded, as if she had answered all her questions.

They were silent for a few minutes more before Katie sighed. "As long as you're happy, I guess."

"I am." Sharon let her hand fall over her daughter's stopping her doodling finger.

Katie smiled at her. "Good."

"Are you ready to fly out tomorrow? I'm going to miss you, but you'd better believe I'm flying out there the week before you go in to labor." Sharon raised an eyebrow at her daughter, a smile turning up the side of her lips.

"Oh Mom," Katie just leaned over and wrapped her arms around her mother – careful of her chest – and broke down in to tears. "I want you there the whole month! You'd better be there!"

"I wouldn't miss it." Sharon wished she could lift her God damn arms so she could wipe the tears that were slipping down her cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

…

Brenda Leigh was only slightly comforted by the fact that Katie and her husband had left that weekend. It meant two less people to have a potential run-in with. She had made it a point to steer clear of Sharon's family because she knew if she were caught she wouldn't know what to say.

No _colleague_ would ever be caught walking out of their _colleague's_ bedroom at four in the morning. That was going above and beyond the duties of friendship and while this was more than a friendship, it wasn't exactly a relationship so Brenda would just rather not be caught at all.

She meticulously set an alarm clock, slept for four hours with Sharon, and then she'd pull herself from the bed and drag her tired self home for some catch up sleep before going in to her office. It was exhausting, she was getting sloppy.

Perhaps that was why she was leaving at 4:36 instead of 4:15.

Her fingers brushed the metal of the front door, a smile curling on her lips as she thought of Sharon whispering goodbye in her near catatonic like state. She was so beautiful all bandaged up and delicate.

"Coffee?"

Brenda had not expected to hear anyone else's voice. Her hand was on the doorknob, she was almost home free, and yet here was the low bass of an elder man, asking her if she wanted coffee?

She turned, her cheeks flushing bright red, leaning up against the front door. There was Sharon's father, lounging on the living room sofa, cup of coffee in one hand and yesterday's newspaper in the other.

"Mr. Middleton." Brenda choked.

"Chief Johnson," a coy smile played on his lips. "Care to join me?" He sat the newspaper down and reached for another coffee cup that was placed on the coffee table before him. So he'd been expecting her? He'd known all along?

Brenda swallowed. A million excuses rolled through her mind, yet her lips seemed unable to formulate a sentence. So she just nodded and stepped back in to the living room. Thomas extended the cup to her with a shaky hand and she graciously accepted the black liquid.

"You know when I was a little younger than you are…you're not that old are you?" He had a twinkle in his eye as he watched her take a seat in a chair across from him.

She just shook her head and sipped the coffee, a tired smile acknowledging what had to be a joke about her age. She was hardly young any more.

"Well, when I was about twenty-one, I met this wonderful woman. Except, her family hated me. They didn't want me near her."

Brenda frowned and swallowed the warm coffee, wondering where Sharon's father was going with this story.

"So I said, 'you know what, Sue, I'm going to be there no matter what.' So I started sneaking up to her room every night, just until she went to bed, and then I'd sneak right on out. Her whole family thought she was dating the neighbor boy, Charlie, but she was with me." Thomas seemed pleased with himself.

"Why did they hate you, Mr. Middleton?" Brenda layered on her Southern charm, hoping if she paid at least partial attention to Sharon's dad he'd let her leave quickly.

"Well, I suppose I wasn't what they wanted for their daughter. I was older and that scared them. She was still in high school at the time." He looked deep in thought.

"What happened?" Brenda sipped her coffee again.

"I married her." He laughed. Brenda could see Sharon in his features when his face lit up with merriment. "What are you doing with my daughter?"

The question caught her off guard. She nearly spat out the coffee she'd just sipped. "Um," she swallowed and sat the coffee cup down. "Well, I've been…I…"

That twinkle had returned to Thomas' eye and made Brenda want nothing more than to be honest with him. He was an older gentleman, but he still had his wits about him. He seemed to understand the world around him, and he didn't seem phased by Brenda walking out of his daughter's room at four in the morning.

"I suppose I love her." Brenda blurted out, not sure where the words had come from.

Thomas' eyes widened and he leaned back against the couch. "Well, I will tell you…she's like her mother. She'll put up a good fight." The smile returned to his lips. "You'd better get going. My wife will be up soon, and we wouldn't want her to know about this. At least not for awhile."

Brenda nodded and stood, brushing out invisible wrinkles from her skirt. She made a beeline for the door, but before she could leave, she turned to give Thomas one last look. "Thank you." She simply whispered. And with a curt smile, Brenda Leigh made her usual early morning exit.

…

"And who might this be?" Gabrielle leaned across her desk to shake Susan's hand.

"I'm her mother, Susan." Susan smiled and politely took Sharon's doctor's hand.

"So nice to meet you. Is she giving you any trouble?" Gabrielle flipped open Sharon's chart and studied the most recent scan. She glanced to see Sharon sitting rather uncomfortably in the chair. She knew how cumbersome and difficult the healing process could be after a mastectomy, but other than the outward wounds, Sharon looked well.

"No, not too much." Susan smiled and settled back in to the seat beside her daughter. "She's just ready to get better."

"I'm right here, Mother," Sharon hissed through clenched teeth, her face wrinkling in pain as she tried to move too much.

"Well, Sharon, I've reviewed your results and everything looks fine. I think you're ready to go back on to chemotherapy. It will be slightly stronger this time, just to make sure all of the cancer is gone." Gabrielle slowly revealed this next step in Sharon's healing process.

All the air in Sharon's body seemed to come rushing out as she sunk back against the office chair. "More…more chemotherapy."

"Yes, just to make sure it doesn't come back. It's just standard procedure. There's nothing wrong with you as of now, but we want to make sure the body is functioning properly again." Gabrielle gave the other woman a tight smile. "I know it's no fun, but believe me, Sharon, it is worth it to put up with the temporary pain."

"Well can't I do something differently this time? Is there any other kind of drug out there that can help?" Sharon frowned, using her right hand to adjust her glasses, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through her chest as she did so.

Gabrielle glanced at Susan for a moment before reaching for a pamphlet. "Since you no longer work for the LAPD, I can recommend this to you." She handed the folded piece of paper to Sharon who squinted to make out what it said.

"THC?" Sharon's eyebrow rose as she realized what Gabrielle was offering her.

"What is it, Sharon?" Susan tried to read over her daughter's shoulder, but Sharon pulled the pamphlet away.

"I…I'll take it under advisement." Sharon placed the pamphlet back on Gabrielle's desk.

"It would help with the pain and increase your appetite." Gabrielle simply explained.

"What is THC?" Susan demanded, staring between her daughter and her doctor.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Marijuana."

Susan huffed in shock and surprise. "Well isn't there something else?"

"Mother, I…I am a grown adult. I can make my own decisions." Sharon closed her eyes, really wishing that she'd chosen her father to escort her to this appointment.

"It's just something to consider." Gabrielle shrugged, hoping she hadn't started some kind of war between mother and daughter.

"And I will, thank you, Gabrielle." Sharon smiled wearily at her and stood from her seat to leave.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Brenda lay in bed, her fingers trailing lazily through the soft, silky strands of auburn hair splayed across her chest. She yawned, staring mindlessly at the television. She could feel Sharon shifting uncomfortably beneath her.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, careful to keep her voice down. It was nearly midnight and Sharon's parents were still a room away.

"Hurts," Sharon whispered back, pushing herself away from Brenda so she could lean back on to her side of the bed. She put a hand to her head, rubbing tenderly at her forehead.

"Do you need some medication?" Brenda frowned, looking towards the bedside table. "What do you need? What is this?" Her fingers began to skim over bottles, squinting to see if she could read what the labels said.

"No," Sharon groaned and cupped her right breast as if she could console, in that simple motion, the place where her left one had been.

Brenda reached for her glasses and flipped on the bedside lamp. "You're takin' something." She informed her ailing counterpart, leaving Sharon no choice in the matter. She searched through the bottles until she found the one marked Vicodin.

"No, Brenda…I'm fine," Sharon sighed, trying to push her away.

"You're takin' this." Brenda poured the pill on to her hand and climbed back on to the bed, crawling slowly towards Sharon's side.

Sharon opened her eyes to find Brenda hovering over her, pill in hand. "Water?" Sharon finally sighed, taking the pill reluctantly from the blonde.

"Oh, you…" Brenda huffed playfully and rolled back over. She picked up Sharon's empty water glass from the bedside table and made her way in to the bathroom.

"You're the one who's making me take the pill," Sharon sleepily retorted.

Brenda rolled her eyes and refilled the cup. Sluggishly she returned to Sharon's side of the bed and handed the glass to her.

It took some effort for Sharon to sit up and Brenda, unable to see Sharon in pain, reached down to help her up. It always surprised Brenda how much she cared about this other woman, how every time she saw Sharon wince or felt that she was in pain, her own heart clenched up and she wanted nothing more than to soothe her. These feelings were so foreign, new.

"I don't need you helping me," Sharon hissed, hitting at Brenda's hands.

"Well, you were strugglin'." Brenda nearly stomped her foot, feeling like her attempts at helping always went unappreciated.

Sharon drank down the pill before her shoulder's sunk. "I'm sorry," she whispered, handing the glass back with a shaky hands.

Brenda took it and sat it down on the nightstand before settling down on the bed next to Sharon. "It's all right." She gave the defiant woman a slight smile and reached out to gently touch her cheek. "Aren't you tired?"

"Yes," Sharon smiled, her right hand coming up to meet Brenda's. Her shaky fingers enclosed around Brenda's hand, bringing her palm to her lips for a light kiss. Brenda smiled back, leaning in to press her lips to those soft lips.

Climbing over Sharon, she helped her lay back down before cuddling in to her right side. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Brenda Leigh," Sharon exhaled slowly. Brenda took this as a sign that the medication was assuaging her pain.

…

"Now, Sharon, you know I don't like the thought of you using…_marijuana_." The word was nearly whispered as if it were poisonous.

"Mother," Sharon shot her mother a sarcastic glance from her spot on the guest bed. She was glad to finally be able to get up, to move around. But too much moving around left her exhausted. She'd taken to watching her mother pack. She wanted her to leave, yet she also enjoyed having her around – as much as she hated to admit it.

"Well, I think you don't need to use illegal substances. Haven't we taught you anything?" Susan huffed.

"Mother, it is _not_ illegal in the state of California. It's been proven to increase appetite, and I don't even know if I will do it." Sharon sighed, picking at the edge of a decorative pillow.

Susan sighed and placed a pair of neatly folded pants in to her suitcase. Sharon watched as her chest sunk in and she sat on to the bed beside her daughter. Her wrinkled hand came to rest on Sharon's leg. "I want you to get better, Sharon."

Sharon smiled, "I will, mom." She took her mother's hand in her own and squeezed it. "Thank you." She let a small, toothy smile form on her lips. "Thank you for coming."

Susan sniffed and took her hand from her daughter's and wiped at the corner of her eye. "I'd do anything for you, Sharon."

"I know." Sharon settled back against the headboard of the bed and continued to watch as her mother packed. She would miss her. Maybe not her nagging, but she'd miss her helping out. For as brass and forward as her mother was, Sharon knew she was only concerned for her. She loved her.

…

Sharon hated chemotherapy. Sharon hated getting poked and prodded with needles. She hated the feeling of cold liquid flowing through her veins. She'd forgotten this initial sensation from her last round of chemotherapy, but it was slowly becoming familiar again.

Resting her head against the comfortable leather seat, she closed her eyes.

She'd just dropped her mother and father off at the airport before coming to the hospital. While she was glad to get some semblance of her normal life back without her entire family hanging over her, she was a little sad that they were now gone. All except Jonathan. She was glad he was sticking around for a little while longer to help out.

And then it hit her.

Her parents were gone.

This meant more time with Brenda Leigh. This meant she could go back to making her own decisions. Like the medical marijuana card. She'd already resolved to get it.

But even more, Brenda Leigh would no longer have to sneak out at the crack of dawn. Brenda Leigh could spend the night – assuming she wanted to – freely. There were no longer parents hanging over them, monitoring them.

Sharon smiled to herself. And as if the other woman sensed it, Brenda Leigh's name flashed across Sharon's cell phone screen.

"Hey there," Sharon's voice was uncharacteristically husky. She swallowed, wondering if her arousal was as apparent as she felt it was.

"Hey yourself. Did you get your parent's on their plane?" Brenda's Southern drawl didn't let on that she'd noticed Sharon's arousal. Sharon immediately envisioned her leaning over her desk, glasses sliding down her nose, her hand hovering over her paperwork. The image made Sharon blush.

"I did." Sharon glanced around the room, wondering if the flush of her cheeks was noticeable.

"Is it bad if I'm glad they're gone? They were lovely and all, but I'm exhausted." The truth came out.

Sharon let out a throaty laugh. "I'm sorry, Brenda Leigh, and no. I'm also glad."

"Can I bring take-out over tonight?" It sounded as if she were smiling on the other end of the line. "And before eleven?"

Sharon laughed again, "sounds wonderful."

"Good." And just like that, they began to feel the boundaries that had been established by having Sharon's parents around dissolve.

…

Sharon drove past the building, noting the boarded up look of it. She checked her GPS for a third time, but realized it was the right location. She watched as some young man entered the building, and in order to get a better look, she pulled off to the side of the road and parked her car. She would wait to see what happened to this young man.

She did not like the look of the place, or the way it made her feel. She knew she had a legal right to be here, but she just wasn't sure she was prepared for this.

She sat there, waiting and watching for no reason at all. And finally the man emerged with a brown paper bag in hand. He was pulling open what looked to be a cookie and Sharon knew that whatever lay inside that store was probably not so bad. But the sunken, unsettled feeling in her stomach made her feel wary of going inside.

Deciding that she could not do this, at least not yet, Sharon put her car in drive and went on home. So much for getting marijuana. Maybe she'd feel more comfortable the next time she tried.

She certainly hoped so because she knew it would be nice to have something to relieve the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, as caused by repeated chemotherapy.

Maybe tomorrow, she thought.

…

Jonathan produced a small package from his pocket and held it out to his mother who was reading a novel on her bed. She looked up from the page she was on and adjusted her glasses to make sure she was seeing what she was seeing. "I don't even want to know how you got that."

Jonathan smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "I know people."

Sharon reached for her bookmark and marked her spot. "Well what are we going to do with it?" A smile played on her lips.

"I have a few ideas."

…

The first hit was soothing, warm, calming. Sharon settled back against the porch chair, allowing her head to roll back. She let the smoke settle for a moment before slowly exhaling upwards. "Oh, that feels wonderful." Her voice was low, even deeper than normal.

Jonathan took the pot from her and inhaled. After a few moments he exhaled and grinned, "it's good shit."

"Yes, well I hope this _shit_ makes me hungry." She reached out for the joint and he returned it to her.

"Give it some time." Jonathan winked and watched her take another hit. He'd never thought in a million years he'd be getting high with his mother. Not his by-the-book mother.

…

Brenda was quite surprised to find Sharon Raydor stretched across her bed surrounded by a bag of chips, an empty plate, some candy bar wrappers, and a jar of pickles.

"What happened here?" Brenda let her bag drop off her shoulder, sliding down her arm and on to the ground.

Sharon giggled and glanced up at the blonde. "I got a little hungry."

"Oh my God, Sharon Raydor. Are you…" Brenda stepped closer and grabbed Sharon's chin, staring in to her eyes. "Are you high?"

Sharon tried for a serious face, but her façade quickly cracked. A grin appeared on her lips.

"You are," Brenda gasped and dropped her hand from Sharon's chin.

"So what if I am." Sharon slid away from her. "Chemo's a bitch."

Brenda shook her head and started clearing off the bed. "Yes, well…I didn't…no, actually I could see you doing it. I don't even know why I'm surprised." She scoffed as she tossed the wrappers and the, surprisingly, empty chip bag in to the trash. Setting the plate on the bedside table, she slipped out of her shoes and crawled in to the bed beside Sharon.

"You really think I'm a stoner?" Sharon wrapped her right arm around Brenda, letting her cuddle in to her side.

"No, 'course not. I just…I knew you smoked, occasionally." Brenda turned to face Sharon and pressed a kiss to her cheek, letting her legs tangle around Sharon's. "But you're Rule-Book-Raydor." Brenda suddenly huffed.

Sharon laughed and pulled Brenda in for a kiss. "Sometimes Rule-Book-Raydor needs to break the rules." She let Brenda kiss her cheek again. "Self preservation takes precedence."

"As long as it helps," Brenda grinned.

…

Lucas stepped in to the front door, the strong smell of baked goods filling his senses. It reminded him of when he was younger and Sharon would stay home with him on sick days and bake cookies. She hadn't baked anything for a long, long time. He took this as a sign of her feeling good. Today must have been a good day. It made Lucas happy when his mother was having a good day.

He preferred her baking over puking her guts up or moping about on the couch, watching some Lifetime movie while eating whatever she felt in the mood for – which was usually never anything good.

Letting his bag fall to his shoulder, he moved towards the kitchen. He could make out the fact that his mother had her head buried in the refrigerator and was not paying attention, and so he quietly crept towards the island where fresh baked cookies lay scattered on a baking sheet. As his fingers made contact with the gooey chocolate chip cookie, the refrigerator door slammed shut. Lucas jumped backwards and found green eyes prying in to his own.

"Don't eat those. Get away, get away, get away." Sharon shooed him away from the island. "Those aren't for you."

"But Sharon," Lucas frowned.

"No," Sharon stepped towards her son and lightly slapped his wrist before pulling him in to kiss his forehead. "These are not for you. I put more in the oven that you can have."

"Why can't I have these?" Lucas surveyed the cookies, searching for a reason as to why he couldn't partake in the first batch.

Sharon curled her fingers around Lucas' wrists and pulled them close together so their foreheads were touching. "Luc, please don't eat those cookies. I do _not_ want to drug my baby."

"Drug…Sharon…what are you talking…" Lucas' eyes wondered to the cookies and then back to his mother. "You're using marijuana?"

"Shh," Sharon let Lucas wiggle out of her grasp. "It increases my appetite and it makes me feel better. Please don't be mad."

Lucas stared at the offending cookies. Sharon crossed her arms and watched as her son processed what his mother was telling him.

"So," Lucas looked back at his mother, "you made me some too?"

Sharon let a small smile grace her features. "Of course. They'll be done in a few minutes. And Brenda will be here soon. We're going out for dinner so go get your homework done." She pulled him to her again and kissed him on the cheek, "you're a good son."

Lucas wiped at the spot where his mother had kissed him and grimaced.

"Oh come on, you love me, too."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I love you, Sharon."

"Good, go tell your brother we're leaving soon, too."

"Okay mom. Try not to get too high before we leave." Lucas shot over his shoulder as he turned to walk up the stairs.

Sharon rolled her eyes at her son before turning to taste test her pot infused chocolate chip cookies. They were delicious.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Brenda Leigh was growing accustom to waking up to the sound of Sharon vomiting in the bathroom. It was not surprising that this morning, after a round of chemotherapy the day before, Brenda should find herself alone in bed and the sounds of retching coming from the bathroom. Sleepily, Brenda kicked the sheets off of herself, realizing that she'd fallen asleep in her work clothes. Her skirt was wrinkled and her bra was uncomfortably digging in to her skin.

She tossed her legs over the side of the bed and got up, slipping out of her wrinkled skirt as she did so. Her feet tiredly carried her to the bathroom and she found that Sharon was sprawled weakly before the toilet, her hand on the rim, her head held over the bowl.

"You okay?" Brenda sleepily got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards the other woman, letting her own hands take over in the chore of keeping Sharon's hair out of her face.

Sharon held up a finger and then shamelessly vomited again. Brenda had to look away, but she kept her hand soothingly on Sharon's back, stroking her sweetly.

"Oh my God, it hurts." Sharon panted as she messily wiped her chin with the back of her hand. She would get in the shower as soon as she felt better. She would wash away the stench of her sickness. For now she flushed the toilet and sat back.

Brenda could only frown. She would give anything to make it stop, to make Sharon better. She knew that the chemotherapy was helping her, but it was still painful to watch her having to go through these not so minor side-effects.

Brenda could only press her lips to Sharon's shoulder blade and pull her close to her.

"I need to shower," Sharon sighed, her body shifting so that she could lean up against the cabinet across from the toilet. Brenda helped her before settling in front of her, staring in to those gorgeous green eyes, which were still as bright as ever. The cancer had not taken the life out of her eyes.

"I love you," Brenda blurted the words out before freezing, pushing herself up against the wall opposite Sharon, afraid of what she had just admitted without even thinking.

Sharon just shook her head, "you don't mean it."

Brenda frowned, but this time it was not with concern for the other woman. This time it was anger and resentment that furrowed her brow. "How dare you say that, Sharon Raydor? I do love you. I know this isn't the best time to be sayin' it, but I love you."

Sharon closed her eyes and let her head roll back to lean against the cabinet. "Fuck," Sharon whispered before letting her eyes open. Those green eyes caught brown and a small smile formed at the corner of those round, full lips. Sometimes Brenda hated that she couldn't read Sharon Raydor. "You're in your underwear."

Brenda looked down, annoyed that Sharon was ignoring her proclamation. "So it seems." She crossed her arms and huffed.

Sharon looked down at the ground, letting her finger anxiously rake through the bathmat. "You look nice in just your underwear." She quietly noted.

"So do you," Brenda bristled, wondering what this had to do with anything. She'd told her she loved her. She should acknowledge th…

"I love you, too." Sharon had closed her eyes. Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I do. I love you."

The smile that formed on Brenda's lips seemed to tug slowly at the corner before transforming in to a beaming, radiant smile. "You…you do?"

Sharon just nodded. "Please don't kiss me. At least not until I brush my teeth." She calmly retorted before pulling herself up using the sink.

"Wouldn't dare," Brenda pulled herself up as well and then wrapped her arms around Sharon, kissing her shoulder blade. "I love you," she smiled. She was trying out the words as if she were trying on a new pair of gorgeous shoes after purchasing them. The words felt so right and she was so glad that Sharon was not running from them.

"I love you, too." Sharon smiled at Brenda through her reflection in the mirror before placing her toothbrush in her mouth.

…

Jonathan passed the joint to his mother and settled back against the porch seat. He watched as she inhaled, her eyes closing in relaxation. He was glad she'd found something that actually helped with the pain.

"You know, I have to leave soon."

Sharon's eyes came open and she sadly nodded as smoke was expelled from between her lips. "Oh, Jon. I'll miss you." She coughed and passed the marijuana back to her son.

"Do you think you'll be all right? I could always have Grandma and Grandpa come back…" he winked and took another hit.

"Oh, fuck no." Sharon shook her head and reached for the bag of chips she'd brought outside to munch on. She was glad to have somewhat of an appetite back. "I think Lucas and I can manage, just fine."

"And Brenda?" Jonathan exhaled, his head tilting to the side as he regarded his mother.

"What about Brenda?" Sharon held out her hand for the joint.

"Well, she's certainly around enough to help." Jonathan shrugged.

Sharon took a contemplative hit and rolled her head back.

"What?" Jonathan could tell that his mother was tense.

"Oh," Sharon hummed, taking another hit. As the smoke came out, her eyes leveled with Jonathan's. "She told me that she loved me."

Jonathan's eyes widened. "Yeah? What'd you do?"

"I love her…I mean I told her I loved her. I mean…I do love her, I just…isn't this odd?" Sharon sighed. Her eyelids felt heavy. She reached up to pull an eyelid up, as if it could make her vision better.

"Not so odd. Is she good at fucking?" Jonathan got a mischievous smile on his face.

Sharon's mouth came open, but the marijuana was slowing down her offended response.

"Well, she looks like she'd be good in bed." Jonathan laughed.

"We are _not_ talking about this," Sharon huffed.

"Oh," Jonathan took another hit and regarded his mother. "Wait, you two…you haven't…have you?"

Sharon covered her eyes. "I told you I'm not talking about this with _you_."

"So you haven't fucked her."

"Do you have to say it like that?" Sharon snapped.

"You haven't had sex with her." Jonathan shook his head.

Sharon took a deep breath and slouched down in her chair. "No, we haven't." The hem of her shirt suddenly became very fascinating.

"Well that's honorable, Mother." Jonathan laughed. "You love her and you haven't even fucked her."

"Back when I was your age that was a positive thing." Sharon hummed, reaching for the last of the joint. She nearly burnt her finger on the butt.

"I never said it wasn't." Jonathan grinned. "But it's never a bad idea to take the car for a test drive before buying it."

"Oh shut the fuck up." Sharon hurled a chip at her son, though her effort was rather fruitless. The lightness of the item caused it to fall short by a foot. "I will _sleep_ with her when I damn well want to."

…

"Sharon, do you want me to…" Brenda stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway to the bathroom.

She watched as the brunette quickly pulled her button-up shirt shut tightly around herself, her hand wondered upwards to wipe at her damp cheek.

"Sharon…" Brenda stepped forward, but the older woman stepped away.

"You should knock, Brenda," her voice was broken, her eyes puffy from crying.

"No, not if…why are you upset?" Brenda moved forward, wrapping her arms around Sharon, but the brunette shoved her way out of her grasp.

"Really, I just want to be alone, Brenda." Sharon brought both her hands up to her face, wiping at her eyes. "I'm okay."

"No, you're not." Brenda crossed her arms and rooted herself to the spot.

Sharon took a jagged breath and collapsed in her vanity chair. She stared in to her mirror for a moment, taking in the sight of her puffy eyes and tear stained face, before putting her head in her hands.

"Sharon," Brenda coaxed her to speak, to tell her what was going on. They'd had a lovely morning in bed together, with kisses and cuddling. Brenda hadn't expected to find Sharon crying in the bathroom.

"I…" Sharon started, running her fingers through her hair. "I hate what it…and I don't want you…"

Brenda pieced together her sentence in her mind and shook her head. "Sharon, you're beautiful no matter what it looks like."

"Oh, shut the fuck up." Sharon wiped at her face, taking a deep breath.

"I'm serious, Sharon." Brenda moved closer to her, placing her hand on her shoulder. The brunette shrugged her hand away.

"Please, Brenda. I'll be okay." Sharon pulled out three tissues from the box on her vanity and began wiping at her face.

"Sharon!" Brenda grabbed her wrist – stopping her hand from scrubbing at her face and causing Sharon to swivel around and stare, bewildered, at her.

"Let me go," Sharon glared up at her.

"Sorry," Brenda let go of Sharon, but didn't move away. "It's just…" Brenda ran a hand through her loose blonde curls. "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything," Sharon turned back to the mirror and began applying a moisturizing cream to her red face.

"I want to do something, though. I've never…I've never felt this before. You have to know that, Sharon. I've never wanted to…" Brenda shifted, feeling completely out of her element, yet knowing Sharon needed to hear this. "I've never wanted to be there for someone like I want to be here for you. I just wish you'd let me in."

Sharon pulled out her foundation and began to apply it, her beautiful natural face with all its intricate wrinkles and lines that Brenda had spent hours admiring were easily covered up. "I appreciate that, Brenda Leigh." She finally whispered.

"Are you always gonna hide it from me?" Brenda slumped against the cabinet.

Sharon snapped shut her powder and pulled her lips between her teeth in contemplation. "It's nothing to marvel at."

Brenda rolled her eyes and moved to tangle her fingers in Sharon's hair. This time the brunette did not shrug her off. "I want to see it," Brenda's eyes met Sharon's in the mirror.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for you to see it. Weren't you going to ask me something when you walked in here?" Sharon leaned forward to line her eyes with a black-tipped pencil.

"I was gonna see if you wanted me to take you by the hospital on my way to work." Brenda's fingers trailed to the ends of Sharon's hair, fighting away a few tangles.

"It's out of the way," Sharon opened her mascara wand and began running it along her lashes.

"You're beautiful," Brenda sighed, leaning around Sharon to press their lips together.

"Not so beautiful," Sharon pushed her away before unrolling her lipstick. "Do you mind taking me? I can have Jonathan pick me up in the afternoon."

"Of course," Brenda glanced in to the mirror and straightened out her hair. She could tell that Sharon was diverting attention away from the place where her left breast had once been. She knew that Sharon was unwilling to let her see the scar, but Brenda also knew that it didn't matter. It could never matter what Sharon looked like. She loved her. She just wished Sharon could wrap her mind around this fact.

…

Sharon watched as her son carried his cello case through the living room. "Where are you going?" She called out from her spot atop the couch. She was in a terrible mood. Brenda had caught a case late in the afternoon. She had a feeling she wouldn't be seeing her at all that evening, and she felt like hell from the chemo she'd received the week before. She just wanted Brenda there to curl around and forget what was happening to her body. But of course she was busy with work. What Sharon would much rather be doing.

"I have rehearsal 'till nine." He set the cello case down by the door and moved towards his mother.

"The concert's tomorrow night, right?" Sharon reached up for her son and wrapped her arms around his tiny waist as he walked in to her embrace.

"Yes." Lucas kissed his mother's forehead. "Do you think…" his voice trailed off.

Sharon glanced up at her son. "What?"

"Do you think Brenda would want to come?"

Sharon gently pushed her son away and shrugged. "You can ask her, but she might be busy." Sharon yawned. She felt like such a slug. She wished she had the energy to get up and maybe take a nice, relaxing walk, but instead she was confined primarily to the couch and bed, and she could spend a few minutes in the kitchen if she felt up to it. What a fucking life.

"Okay," Lucas eyed his mother. She looked a bit depressed. "Are you okay?"

Sharon nodded, "you'd better get to rehearsal."

Lucas frowned but then nodded. "I love you, Sharon."

"Love you, Luc."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Sharon, having gotten high almost out of sheer boredom, but mostly because she knew she needed to eat, sat back on her bed and stared blankly at the television before her. She had yet to get up and find food, but it did feel good to be high. She supposed it was the next best thing to having her blonde Deputy Chief.

But the woman was busy. She couldn't expect her to come running home to her. Of anyone Sharon could understand what Brenda's job entailed, but the irrational part of her mind just wanted her there with her.

And yet she was such a coward. She couldn't even let Brenda see her. She knew the blonde was itching to know what it looked like, and she perhaps even knew that Brenda wouldn't go running out the door if she did happen to see the scar. But she was still scared, embarrassed perhaps.

There was a light knock on her bedroom door, so light Sharon wasn't sure she'd heard it at all. She turned; her mind and eyes taking a moment to catch up to one another, but if she wasn't mistaken it appeared that a blonde woman had just entered her bedroom.

"Are you real?" Sharon reached hazily for her glasses and placed them on the bridge of her nose.

"Are you high?" Brenda's Southern voice broke through the space.

"Yes," Sharon nodded, reaching out for the younger woman, allowing her to kiss her. She suddenly noticed that the other woman had brought food with her. "What's that smell?" She was suddenly starving and ready to eat anything the blonde had brought her. "Why are you here?" She also sniffed, watching as Brenda pulled out several take out boxes.

"It turned out to be a triple homicide and a suicide. I'll be swamped with paperwork; it was so sad." Brenda ran a hand across her forehead and pulled out another box. "And I felt like Indian. Is that okay?"

"Anything sounds okay," Sharon reached for Brenda's hand, stopping her from opening what looked and smelled like tikka masala chicken. "I missed you today."

Brenda smiled and leaned down to kiss her brunette again. "I know. I didn't think I'd be able to come by." Brenda ran a hand through mused hair, pressing her lips again to Sharon's. "Where's Lucas?"

"Orchestra rehearsal and Jonathan is out with friends." Sharon sighed and reached for the aluminum foil wrapped naan.

"Do you think we could talk?" Brenda settled in to the bed beside Sharon.

Sharon didn't like the way this sounded. "About?" She carefully folded a piece of butter chicken with some rice in to some naan and bit in to it. It was delicious.

"Us," Brenda followed suit with the tikka masala.

"All right," Sharon glanced over at her, nervous for some reason. What if her cold demeanor the day before had caused Brenda to reconsider the fact that she loved her?

"I do love you, Sharon. And I want to be with you. Do you think we could try that?" Brenda reached for the remote control, turning it to her guilty pleasure. Reality television. Sharon would never understand.

"Try…"

"Actually dating. I want to…I want to be more than just someone who's here for you. Do you think….do you think it can be time for that?" Brenda looked apprehensively over at the brunette, waiting for a response.

Sharon took a deep breath. Yes, she wanted that, but she wasn't sure she was ready to actually try this. This would mean an actual commitment and Sharon had never had any good commitments. She wasn't sure she could handle losing Brenda, but then wasn't that reason enough to try? "I…I would like that, but…but what does that mean for us?"

Brenda took another bite of her chicken and swallowed. "I don't think it has to be so different from what it is now. Look, I'm here every night, practically." Sharon nodded. "And, I love you and we kiss and sleep together. I don't see what more we'd need."

"Well, what about coming out to people, and this being two women…and what about sex? Have you ever even considered that?" Sharon felt ridiculous even questioning it all, but these were concerns she supposed she had.

"I don't see how it would be much different from bein' with a man, minus a part. I mean, really…I'm sure we could figure it out." Brenda shrugged. "And your family practically all knows. Except your Momma."

Sharon processed this information for a moment before frowning, "what about my _Daddy_?" It was always so endearing when she made fun of Brenda's insistence upon calling her parents Momma and Daddy.

Brenda swallowed and then looked, with wide eyes, over at Sharon. "Um, well he might have…found…out."

Sharon frowned. Her voice was slow and measured when she asked, "how?"

"He might have caught me…one mornin'…leavin'…in any case, it's fine with him."

Sharon considered what Brenda had just told her and then, with a quick shrug she sighed. "Well, I suppose that just leaves my mother. But…are you…are you okay with it all?"

Brenda bit her lip. "I want to be with you, so I'm willin' to make the sacrifices that entails."

"What about Willie Ray and Clay?" Sharon was quickly eating all of the butter chicken. She was quite surprised by her increased appetite.

"They love you," Brenda grinned.

Sharon couldn't help but smile back at Brenda. "But, will they love me when they know my intentions for their daughter?"

Brenda's eyebrow rose. "What are those intentions?"

Sharon played dumb, finding the stupid reality show they were watching on television _very_ fascinating.

"Sharon," Brenda sat her take-out box on the bedside table and moved Sharon's abandoned box on top of it.

"Hmm?" Sharon knew her high was wearing off. She was very present in this sobering, albeit exciting moment.

"Are we in a relationship?" Brenda straddled Sharon, careful not to hurt her, and leaned down to kiss her.

"I believe," Sharon tangled her fingers in Brenda's hair, pulling her closer, "we are."

Brenda grinned, her big goofy, happy grin and Sharon couldn't help but kiss her. The kiss just deepened from there, Brenda's hands coming up to tangle in Sharon's hair, her elbows resting on the bed. Their lips melded together, Sharon's hands ran down Brenda's arms, finding the hem of her shirt. Her fingers played across found skin, pulling the material up. Brenda smiled against her lips and rolled on to her left side, careful of Sharon's chest.

Her hand snaked its way beneath the spandex of Sharon's yoga pants, stroking the soft skin beneath her fingers, before trailing her hand upwards, running it along Sharon's side. In this simple motion, Brenda found her fingers pulling up Sharon's shirt.

Their lips stayed pressed together, but Sharon's hand wrapped around Brenda's wrist, stopping her upwards motion.

"What?" Brenda whispered, pulling back to realize that Sharon's scar was clearly displayed before her. Her eyes softened and she easily twisted out of Sharon's grasp. Sharon turned her head and dropped her hand to the bed. Finding no words that would comfort the anxious brunette, she let her finger trail beneath the scar, taking in the sight of the missing breast. It looked much better than Brenda had initially anticipated it would. There was a simple incision line and no nipple. She could tell that Sharon was now starring down with furrowed brows, gauging her reaction to the missing breast.

It was simply beautiful, Brenda was curious to see what the other breast looked like, but she knew this one needed some love and attention for now.

She pressed her lips reassuringly to Sharon's before sliding down.

"Brenda," Sharon whispered, a hint of a warning in her tone, but it was hardly a convincing protest.

Brenda ignored her and leaned down, pressing her lips to Sharon's muscled abdomen. She could feel a slight quiver where her lips touched and could sense that Sharon's breathing had become labored. "You…Brenda…"

Brenda crawled on top of Sharon, her lips moving upwards to kiss right beneath the breast.

"Brenda," Sharon whispered, but this time it was more urgent. Her hand caught Brenda's shoulder, pulling her upwards. "Brenda," Sharon met dark brown eyes.

"What?" Brenda lifted her hand to push Sharon's hair behind her ear.

"I need…" Sharon closed her eyes and shifted. Swallowing, her voice was near a whisper when she spoke again. "I want you…to touch me."

Brenda's eyes widened. "Are you…are you sure?"

Sharon nodded, her eyes coming open again. She reached up and tangled her fingers in blonde hair. "Yes." She pulled her to her and kissed her.

"What if I…I don't…" Brenda's cheeks were flushed when they pulled away.

Sharon smiled. "It's okay, here." Sharon took her hand and pulled it downwards. "You've masturbated before, haven't you?" She grinned.

Brenda laughed, "'course I have." She allowed Sharon to lead her hand right to her center, beneath her yoga pants. She was pleasantly surprised to find the older woman wasn't wearing underwear. "Tell me what to do."

"Well, you'll have to touch somewhere other than my stomach." Sharon smiled.

"Oh," Brenda huffed and let her fingers move down through a patch of hair. It felt mostly like her own, it was just strange to touch someone else.

"Down," Sharon instructed while pulling Brenda in for a kiss.

Brenda's fingers slid in to a soft, gentle area.

"I might need some help," Sharon muttered against Brenda's lips.

"Help?" Brenda frowned, finding that she was thoroughly enjoying the feel of Sharon beneath her fingers.

"There's um…there's lubricant in the top of that drawer." Sharon pointed.

"Oh," Brenda nodded. "No need to be ashamed 'bout that." Brenda smiled and pulled out her hand to reach for the lubricant. She easily opened it and poured some on to her hand, rubbing it primarily on her fingers before returning to her previous spot, delighting in the feel of now moist warmness. "God you feel wonderful," Brenda grinned, leaning in to kiss Sharon.

Sharon simply smiled. "Move up," she whispered against Brenda's lips, using her hand to guide Brenda.

"Here?" Brenda knew that she, herself, was extremely wet. This felt intimate, soft, sweet and it was turning her on like crazy.

"Ye-yes." Sharon's hips moved upwards, in to Brenda's touch. Her fingers had slid in to her own pants and were covering Brenda's. They moved together in perfect rhythm.

"Good…Lord, Sharon you're gorgeous." Brenda sighed, opening her eyes to take in the sight of the beautiful woman splayed out before her. Her face betrayed a mix of concentration and pleasure.

Sharon removed her hand, knowing that Brenda would be just fine on her own. She arched upwards, holding on to Brenda to keep her close. "Oh this feels so good," Sharon breathed, realizing that she hadn't been in the mood to masturbate, nor had she had the strength recently. How lucky, she realized, she was to have Brenda to help now…and it didn't hurt that Brenda did things to her that she could hardly even begin to comprehend. The woman's soft skin, her luscious and full lips, her warm body, the life that coursed through her…it left Sharon in awe and aroused.

"Is this okay?" Brenda kissed her neck, noticing that the brunette was eliciting moans as her finger trailed back and forth over Sharon's clit.

"Harder," Sharon whispered before loudly sighing. "Oh, fuck, Brenda."

Brenda, encouraged by Sharon's response, began to rub faster and harder in the same location.

"Yes, fuck," Sharon cried, grasping on to Brenda's shoulder, pulling them close together as she neared her end. "Yes, yes," Sharon panted. "Oh, Brenda Leigh," this was so much better than her black dress fantasies - which felt like ages ago - had been. This was the real deal; this was Brenda in her arms, touching her, their bodies actually rubbing together.

"Brenda!" Sharon called out and arched upwards before falling back against her pillow. A very pleasant sensation raced through her entire body and she couldn't help the silly smile that adorned her lips. Brenda's lips peppered that smile, her own smile obvious.

"That was…."

"Wonderful," Sharon finished for the blonde, allowing her to fall to her right side.

"Was that…it was…okay?" Brenda kissed her cheek lazily, her voice breathless from the effort she'd exerted. She could tell that she would like this new form of intimacy a whole lot.

"It was more than okay, Brenda Leigh." Sharon grinned, catching her own breath. "Thank you," she leaned over to kiss the blonde. "Thank you for everything."

"Least I could do," Brenda smiled and snuggled in to her side.

"Sharon?" Lucas called through the bedroom door.

"Shit," Sharon broke down in to giggles. She leaned up and glanced at the door. "What, Luc?" She called.

"I just…I wanted you to know I'm home." Brenda trailed her fingers through Sharon's hair, pressing kisses to her neck. She clearly wasn't deterred by Sharon's son so close by.

"That's great, Luc." Sharon rolled her eyes and allowed Brenda to kiss her. This felt dirty.

"Can you ask Brenda about tomorrow?" He called back.

Sharon had to push Brenda away to respond, but of course the blonde wouldn't detach herself. She moved to suck lightly on Sharon's neck. Sharon sighed and replied, "I will, good night, baby."

"Night, Sharon." He called and then they heard him walking off towards his bedroom.

"You're horrible," Sharon rasped.

Brenda simply grinned and returned her lips to Sharon's before asking, "what's tomorrow night?"

"He has a concert. You don't have to go, he just…he'd like it if you did. But I can understand if you're busy." Sharon settled back against the bed. "Can you hand me that pill bottle?" She motioned to the night stand.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sore." Sharon nodded.

Brenda reached for the bottle. "I'd love to come if a case doesn't come up." She responded, sitting up to open the bottle and pour out a pill. She returned the bottle to the bedside table before handing the pill and a glass of water to the beautiful woman beside her.

Sharon pulled herself up in to a seated position. "So we're doing this?"

Her question caught Brenda off-guard, but she easily nodded, "yes."

"Aren't I too old for you?" Sharon let a smile curl up her lip.

Brenda pined her with a disbelieving stare, "I'm not that much younger than you."

"Aren't you scared of what could happen to me? You do realize some people don't make it through chemo."

"Sharon Raydor," Brenda grabbed the water glass out of her hand and glared at her. "I'm not afraid of what you're going through."

Sharon bit her lip and nodded, a slight smile crept across her features. She reached out for Brenda and pulled the younger woman to her, their lips meeting.

"So…you guys are finally in a relationship?" Jonathan called through the door.

"Christ, Jon!" Sharon called out.

"Sorry, Sharon," She heard Lucas cursing his brother. Something about the fact that he shouldn't be eavesdropping.

"Are you really ready for this?" Sharon glanced over at Brenda.

Brenda smiled. "We are!" She answered Jonathan without turning to the door. Instead she pulled Sharon in to a rather heated kiss. "Besides, we've already consecrated our relationship." She whispered to Sharon before her tongue traced down the shell of her ear.

"Oh fuck me." Sharon sighed, completely lost in her blonde.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Sharon was feeling much better. She wasn't sure if it had been the sex, or the fact that Brenda Leigh loved her enough to put up with her, but ever since that evening, Sharon felt energized and she'd found strength she hadn't realized she had. Brenda made Sharon want to live, to share her life, to get better.

So she was walking. Sharon was walking past houses she'd never even taken the time to look at or see. These were houses she'd lived next to for nearly six years, and she'd never taken the time out of her busy schedule to really look at them. Certainly she'd gone on long runs, but she'd always had so much on her mind. Work, Lucas' schedule, the next deadline, the next case, Brenda Leigh…she'd always used her runs to sort through her life.

But suddenly her life felt much simpler, much easier. She was truly loved by a woman she had wanted to strangle several years ago. She found the situation humorous, but she supposed some of the best relationships might come out of rivalries.

Sharon rounded a corner, and realized she was smiling from ear-to-ear. Her smile seemed permanent as of late. She would normally frown at herself for feeling this way, but cancer had left her less of a cynic. Brenda was making her less of a cynic (if that was at all possible).

…

Sharon settled down in to the dimly lit theatre of her son's high school. She instantly recalled her own high school experience and gladly smiled to herself that those days were gone and over with. She glanced around, noticing Gabrielle Suarez sitting several rows over with her very attractive husband who was a lawyer. They were the perfect little family; her daughter was even the principal violist in the orchestra. She was very talented and had already received early admittance in to an Ivy League school to study medicine. How very perfect, Sharon mused as the two women caught eyes. Gabrielle waved and Sharon waved back.

"Who's that?" Jonathan, who was high out of his mind, leaned over and whispered.

"My doctor." Sharon, who had shared some of the marijuana before they came, smiled over at him.

"Her husband's hot." Jonathan noted.

"Please don't tell me you're gay now," Sharon flipped the page of her program.

"What, I can't appreciate a man?" Jonathan laughed before his eyes collided with someone and he began waving.

"What are you doing? Who…?" Sharon turned to find that Brenda had just entered in to the auditorium. She was apprehensively glancing around, realizing how very lost she was in this big room with so many people. Sharon had to admit she was quite adorable when she looked perplexed. "I'll get her." Sharon pushed Jonathan's hand's down in to his lap and pulled herself up. She excused herself politely out of the row they were sitting in and moved to the back of the theatre.

Brenda finally met her eyes and she smiled. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"No, it hasn't started yet." Sharon shook her head, unable to help the smile that was forming on her lips. "I can't believe you came."

"He invited me. I wanted to." Brenda huffed, allowing Sharon to pull her out of the way of other parents trying to make their way in to the room.

It was apparent that Brenda wanted to kiss her, and Sharon, in turn, had every want to kiss her back, but she felt strange in this new environment. These people were people that she had known for practically six years. She knew she shouldn't care about what they thought, and finally she decided that it didn't matter. She pulled Brenda to her and pressed their lips together in a slightly heated, slightly chaste kiss. Brenda almost stumbled backwards in surprise and Sharon just straightened her blazer and grinned.

"Sharon Raydor, so good to see you. And who might this be?" Elizabeth Barker, the wife of one of Sharon's detectives and the mother of a boy who had always given her Lucas hell, caught her arm.

"Elizabeth, so nice to see you." Sharon smiled tightly. "This is Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. My girlfriend." Sharon's arm snaked around Brenda's back, holding the blonde woman to her side closely.

Elizabeth's eye brow rose – perhaps for only a split second – but it moved in a rather shocked way. "Girlfriend, how very interesting. You must work with my husband, Detective Barker." Elizabeth glanced at Brenda, her eyes seeming to scan over the blonde. Sharon didn't like it.

Brenda had already dawned an equally annoyed smile. "I have heard of him."

"Right, well I hope you two enjoy the concert. So nice to run in to you. I hope all is well?"

"Oh yes, it's all coming right along." Sharon nodded.

"I was so sorry to hear about it." Elizabeth practically called over her shoulder as she walked down the aisle of the theatre.

"I'm sure you were, Bitch," Sharon whispered under her breath.

"You called me your girlfriend." Brenda beamed, turning in Sharon's tight grasp to press their lips together again.

"I did." The smile that had been apparent before Elizabeth's rude interruption returned.

The lights began to dim and Sharon quickly realized they needed to get to their seats. "Come on," she reached for Brenda's hand, somehow no longer caring who saw or what people thought. Brenda was there for her, for her son. It was sweet, and she was going to hold her hand or kiss her if she damn well wanted to.

…

Sharon killed the ignition and glanced over at her oldest son.

"Are you going to survive without me?" He looked over at her.

Sharon glanced over at him and nodded. "I think I have enough to handle."

"Oh I can imagine." Jonathan smiled to himself and narrowly avoided the slap his mother sent in his direction. "Is it good?" He glanced back over at his mother.

Sharon shook her head. "Aren't you going to miss your flight or something?"

"That good, huh?"

"Seriously, Jon. I think you have an unhealthy obsession with your mother's sex life." She took off her seatbelt.

"All right, fair point. I'll leave it alone. But you know you're going to miss me, right?"

Sharon turned back to her son, reaching out to place her hands on either side of his face. When had he gotten to be so old? So sweet? She was certainly proud of him. "Of course I will." She leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Now get out of my car, get out of my life. Come visit me over Christmas this year."

"I'll be there." He laughed, "and I'm sure I'll see you when Katie has her baby."

"Oh yes, we'll all be there."

"Good." And after helping him get his suitcase out of the back, he kissed her on the cheek and then disappeared in to the crowd of people walking in to LAX. Yes, Sharon would miss her oldest son. But she was glad that she felt almost normal again. The pain was subsiding, she didn't need anyone to drive her around anymore, she didn't need a babysitter. She gradually felt her independence returning and she liked it.

Even if she was a little sad to see her son go.

…

Sharon started walking. At first it was just around the block, but soon she was finding off road trails to hike in the early morning. She was beginning to feel healthy, normal again. The cancer just loomed in the back of her mind, only causing her minor panic attacks in the late night when no one was around.

She'd taken to calling Brenda when this panic set in. She'd never admit to why she'd really called, but it was always good to hear her voice.

"You okay?" Brenda's voice was hoarse from sleep.

"Yeah…I, um…I'm sorry I woke you up." Sharon whispered in to the phone.

"No, it's s'okay." Brenda yawned.

"No, you're tired…you should go back to sleep."

"Well now I'm up and want to talk to you." Brenda insisted, her voice sounding a bit more alert.

Sharon smiled and leaned back in her bed. "Did you close the case?"

Brenda yawned again, "I did. Stupid idiot thought it was okay to kill a little girl and then leave fingerprints."

"That sounds horrible." Sharon turned over on her side, missing Brenda's presence in her bed. But they had decided it was best for Brenda to go home sometimes, especially when she had late night cases. As nice as it was waking up with Brenda at her side, they both accepted that it was better to spend some time apart, too. Sharon understood how intense Brenda's job was, and sometimes they could clash over the littlest things if they didn't have some space, so they were selfless enough to give each other room some nights. Though it was nice when Sharon was having night panic attacks to have Brenda there. If Brenda were there, Sharon could simply cuddle in closer and feel secure again. When she was gone…it wasn't so easy.

"It was hard." Brenda admitted. Sharon had never realized how invested Brenda could be, how much she cared about the victims. She supposed she'd considered Brenda rather heartless, but she realized her blind passion about cases really came from doing the right thing, making it right for those who were wronged. She also realized that Brenda didn't always let things roll off her back like Sharon had thought. Cases could really stick with her, especially cases involving children.

"I can imagine." Sharon let her hand glide across her soft sheets.

"Are you having troubles sleepin'? You know you can talk to me 'bout it." Brenda cut to the chase.

Sharon hadn't realized she was so transparent. "How did…"

"Sharon, when I'm there, I can feel when you wake up. I'm a very light sleeper. What's wrong?"

"You…well," Sharon swallowed, curling herself in to a ball.

"Are you scared?" Brenda was a very good at what she did. She could read people; Sharon hadn't thought she would use this talent on her.

"Yes." Sharon whispered.

"It's going to be okay." Brenda firmly responded.

"What if something happens, what if it comes back?" Sharon rolled on to her back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Well, we'll deal with it then. Just think about now. Don't you feel good now?" Brenda seemed oddly good at making her feel better.

"Yes, I do." Sharon rubbed her forehead. "I walked almost four miles today."

"Good heavens, that's wonderful." Brenda sounded genuinely impressed. "You're gettin' better, see?"

Sharon shrugged. "I suppose so."

"You _are_." Brenda insisted.

"When did you become so compassionate?" Sharon laughed.

"When I met you, it seems."

"I'd beg to differ. You were quite the bitch when you met me."

Brenda laughed, "well then when I started likin' you."

"I'm glad you started liking me. I'd hate to know how you'd be treating me now if you didn't."

Brenda laughed harder, before sighing. "I wish I was there."

"Come over tomorrow." Sharon grinned.

"I will. Dinner?"

"If a case doesn't come up." Sharon astutely pointed out.

"Right. We'll play it by ear."

"Go to sleep." Sharon yawned, feeling settled again.

"You too. It's going to be okay." Brenda whispered.

"Okay," Sharon let a sleepy smile play on her lips. "Goodnight, Brenda."

"Goodnight, Sharon."

…

It was nearly seven by the time Sharon got the call from Brenda. She'd spent the afternoon cooking, and was just about to pull a casserole out of the oven when her phone rang.

"A case came up?" She inquired, already knowing what Brenda was going to say before she said it.

"Ooooh, yes." Brenda sounded thoroughly disappointed. "I hope you didn't make somethin' delicious."

Sharon stared at her casserole, pulling off her oven mitts. "No, nothing too elaborate."

"It's something elaborate." Sharon could hear the sweet blonde curse under her breath. "Save me some?" Brenda pleaded.

Sharon smiled, "I will."

"When is that appointment that you kept talkin' 'bout?" Brenda suddenly thought to ask.

It caught Sharon quite off guard, "tomorrow, but you don't have to worry about it."

"What time," Brenda's voice was firm.

"It's at eleven, but you'll be busy. Please, it's okay." Sharon leaned up against the kitchen counter. She had hoped Brenda would be able to sneak away from work that evening to come and reassure her that the results of her latest mammogram would come out clean. But, in the LAPD, having a life was next to impossible. And Sharon really didn't want Brenda to give up her love of her job to babysit her.

"I'm going to be there." Brenda insisted.

Sharon rolled her eyes and smiled at Lucas as he walked in to the kitchen.

"Smells good." He mouthed.

Sharon turned to reach for a plate out of the cabinet. "We'll see."

"I'll be there." Brenda had become a stubborn little girl.

"All right, then I'll text you the address and I'll see you tomorrow." Sharon felt her stomach sinking, hoping that Brenda would, actually, be there tomorrow.

"Brenda's not coming?" Lucas inquired, taking a seat at the island counter; he'd pulled out some forks and napkins for them.

"No," Sharon used a spatula to pile some casserole on to a plate and then handed it off to her son.

"Are you guys okay?" He awkwardly asked.

Sharon put her hand to her forehead and rubbed. "Yes, Luc, we're fine."

"Your appointment is tomorrow and you wanted her to be here?"

"Christ, am I suddenly transparent?" Sharon turned to look at her son with a plate of casserole for herself.

Lucas shrugged, "you're not as hard to read as you think." He grinned.

Sharon just smiled and joined him at the bar, glad to have her son around.

…

"From what I can see on the scans, it looks like the chemo has actively removed all traces of any spreadable cancer cells. After removing the breast, the cancer was removed from the system, so I can now recommend we cease the chemo and have several follow up visits scheduled for a later time." A smile formed on Gabrielle's lips as she looked over at the brunette who had already been through so much.

Sharon could feel the tears welling in her eyes. She hadn't been expecting this. "Is it…it's really gone?"

Gabrielle nodded. "It's gone."

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, but only a sob escaped. She covered her mouth, but quickly realized there were tears falling down her cheeks. A hand fell on her knee and an arm wrapped around her back.

Sharon glanced over in to warm, brown eyes. In that moment it felt like Sharon was waking form a very rude, horrible, painful dream. She realized that everything she had gone through in the past year had all been worth it, because in that moment she was as alive as ever. Brenda Leigh was actually beside her in the doctor's office, hearing this news with her. They were together, not just a figment of her imagination. And what was more, she was cancer free.

The pain she had just endured had been rewarded. Her chest might feel tight and bras might still be uncomfortable, and she might still feel some jolts of pain now and again, but she had her life. She had everything she could possibly imagine and the tears just kept rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm okay," she finally soothed the worried look that was wrinkling Brenda's brow. "I'm okay." She smiled through her tears and pulled Brenda to her, kissing her on the lips.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

6 Months Later

Sharon Raydor was watching the television as Commander Taylor stepped in front of the camera; she leaned forward, completely transfixed by the case. A six year-old boy had been shot by the police department. She could hardly believe her ears, and she could sense the tension and unease in Taylor's voice as he delivered the update.

It was at that very moment that her phone began to ring. She blindly reached for the vibrating object and glanced down with blurry eyes to find a number she hadn't seen for ages flashing across the screen.

"Chief Pope," she stated with some disbelief as she answered the phone.

"Sharon Raydor, I'm not sure if you've seen the news…"

"I'm watching it right now. What the hell happened?" She glanced back at the television; the carrot she'd been slicing forgotten on the cutting board.

"As you know, I can't discuss anything with you….but if you wanted your old position back, now would be an excellent time to reconsider." He sounded as stressed as Taylor looked.

Sharon pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it with disbelief. "Are you shitting me?" She finally retorted.

Chief Pope laughed, "I wish I were."

"You're calling me _now_, after an officer shot a child? Boswell is perfectly capable of…"

"He's not you. We need you."

Sharon took a deep breath and placed her hand with cutting knife in it on her hip. She closed her eyes, realizing her heart was racing.

…

"Where were you standin' when you shot?" Brenda flipped a piece of paper that had a mapped out diagram of the crime scene towards the officer seated across the table.

Officer Jenkins pointed to where the cop car had been located. "I was standing right there, right by the door."

"And then Mr. Andrews was where?" Brenda leaned forward, very interested in Jenkins' recounting of what had happened.

"Right here," he pointed towards the spot where the gunman had been standing.

"He had his gun pointed right at you?" Gabriel's brow was creased as he inquired.

"He pulled a gun out of his pocket and took a shot at the cop car, here," Jenkins pointed to the diagramed cop car, exactly where a bullet had been found. "He was using the child as a shield and I thought I had a perfect angle on his head, but he moved right after I shot and the bullet went right in to the kid's shoulder."

Brenda nodded and grabbed up the paper, "okay, thank you, Officer."

She made a quick exit because she wanted to consult with Flynn and Provenza on the details, but as she exited the room she felt her stomach sink in a most surprised way.

Green eyes twinkled momentarily in her direction before returning to Chief Pope. The case suddenly forgotten, Brenda went stalking right up to the duo standing in the middle of her bullpen. "What are you doin' here?"

"Captain Raydor has returned to head FID in this investigation." Chief Pope simply stated.

Brenda stared incredulously from him to Sharon. "You…you're back?"

Sharon just gave her a slight smile, "I am. And I would like to question your Officer before I talk with the family."

Brenda felt her mouth opening to agree, but her brain had not quite caught up with her mouth. "I can't believe…of course, I just…you didn't tell me…and…"

Chief Pope stared between the two women, a confused look playing on his visage. "Chief Johnson, may she interview Officer Jenkins?"

Brenda just nodded, unable to keep the grin from forming. "Welcome back, Capt'n."

Sharon just awkwardly nodded and gave her a rather flustered smile before Chief Pope could whisk her away to the interview room.

Brenda stared after them with a silly smile – completely inappropriate for their current case and that moment – playing on her lips.

…

It was well past midnight by the time Sharon finished all the paperwork, with the help of a rather flustered Boswell, and returned to her home. She noticed that a certain blonde's car was parked out front of her house and she smiled at the prospect of returning home to her Deputy Chief.

Unlocking and opening the front door as quietly as she possibly could, Sharon made her way in to the house and sat her bag down, surprised to find her son sitting in the kitchen.

"What are you doing up, honey?" Sharon ran a hand through her now flattened hair and moved towards the boy.

He smiled widely at her. "I wanted to congratulate you on your first day back."

Sharon pulled him in to a hug. "Thank you, Luc." She pulled away and took off her jacket. "Where is Brenda?"

Lucas laughed, "you missed her. She fell asleep on the couch."

Sharon snorted and headed back in to the living room. She saw the blonde curled up in a ball around a pillow, completely out. She must have been exhausted after the nearly forty-eight hour investigation she'd just completed. Sharon was equally tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up with the blonde and fall asleep – but in her comfortable tempurpedic bed.

She sat down on the edge of the couch and let her hand run lightly over Brenda's cheek, fingers trailing through her hair. The blonde's eyes flashed quickly open and she startled out of her curled up position. Sharon grinned and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Hey sleepy."

Brenda smiled, realizing who it was. She wrapped her arms around the brunette and pulled her in for a deeper kiss. Sharon smiled and lightly pulled away, "my son's in the kitchen."

"Don't matter," Brenda stubbornly kissed her again. "You surprised me."

Sharon sat up and smiled. "I know."

"I'm glad you're back."

"I am, too." Sharon grinned before turning towards the kitchen. "Lucas, honey, you should get to bed. You have school in the morning."

He sighed and hoped off his barstool, taking his leftover midnight snack plate to the sink.

"You should get to bed, too." Sharon turned back to Brenda and leaned down to kiss her again.

"Only if you come with me."

"I was planning on it."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this story. I don't know why I waited so long to post this last little bit. You've all been great reviewers. :)<strong>

**And for being good reviewers, here is a sneak peek at a potentially upcoming story. Let me know what you think about...are you interested?**

Brenda Leigh stepped out of her Crown Vic, her heels clicking on the cement pavement of the parking garage. Just what she needed today. A major crime, the day she was supposed to go sit down with her lawyer to sign the final papers. She would have to put it off another day. She knew Fritz would be upset with her, but she simply couldn't do it. Not today.

And besides that, it still hurt. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready to let go of everything they'd built together, yet she knew…they both knew it was over.

Her ears perked up as she heard heels clacking behind her. Police training overtook her need to know who was following behind her, and she stealthily glanced behind her, surprised to find a rather disheveled looking Captain Raydor, struggling with her purse and bag.

Stopping in her tracks, Brenda turned to greet the other woman politely, but realized the brunette was fighting back tears. Perhaps she shouldn't have turned around.

"Chief Johnson," Sharon's voice was even; it held no emotion as she quickly caught up to the blonde.

"Afternoon, Capt'n." Brenda nodded, uncertain as to what she should say in this situation. It was obvious the Captain was under distress, but Brenda wasn't sure their slowly blossoming working relationship extended to asking her what was wrong or comforting her. In a strange way, Brenda almost did want to reach out to her on more than a professional level.

"Did you catch a case?" Sharon inquired, obviously trying to detract from her teary eyes.

"We did. LATV 9's anchorwoman went missin' this mornin' and she ended up beaten to death in her apartment." Brenda filled Sharon in as they stepped in to the elevator off of the parking garage. Brenda politely hit FID's floor for Sharon without her asking.

Sharon's eyes widened. "I wondered where she was on the news this morning. I always found her very attractive."

Brenda nodded, then glanced over at the brunette and frowned. "She is attractive, isn't she?" Brenda had never thought about it before, but she did suppose the once living blonde anchorwoman had been very attractive. Not so much in the sorry state Brenda had just seen her in. "Was, I suppose." Brenda glanced down at her hands.

Sharon seemed to open her mouth to ask Brenda something, but then stopped herself. This single motion piqued Brenda's curiosity. She wanted to know what the brunette would ask her. After some internal struggle – or so it seemed –Sharon finally opened her mouth again. "Are you doing all right, and all?" Her voice sounded small, uncharacteristic of the normally confident head of FID.

Brenda nodded. She glanced at her watch and then sighed, "I was supposed to be signin' the papers right now, but this case came up."

"I'm sorry." Sharon's voice was sympathetic.

Brenda looked over at the Captain, a bit surprised by her show of sympathy. Though she supposed it wasn't so surprising. They'd been growing closer over the past few months. Sharon had actually been the first person Brenda had confided in about her divorce. So perhaps this was normal, it was okay. "Thanks," she gave her a wide smile before the elevator dinged open on to FID's floor. She immediately wished she'd asked Sharon about her afternoon – the woman had been visibly upset – but the brunette was already bidding her a good afternoon and making an escape from the elevator. Brenda felt like a coward. She made a mental note to be more attentive next time.


End file.
